Tales from the Westside: Cody
by SeanCarlos
Summary: Approximately six months after breaking out of prison for the disappearance of Jessica, Cody receives news of his missing girlfriend while hiding out in Canada. This is the boxer's story of his adventure to find Jessica. CHAPTER 6 & 7 ADDED.
1. Feathers from the Past

Chapter 1

**"Feathers from the Past"**

It was cold and windy: the beginnings of a long and hard storm. Rain whipped across my face as I ran through the forest, the dirt pathway nearly becoming mud as my cabin came into view. The various trees that surrounded my cabin rustled violently, with small twigs and branches splashing into the puddles below. I scurried for my keys upon reaching the cabin to unlock the door. But clumsy me, the set of keys slipped from my hands and onto the ground.

"Fuck! Great job," I told myself. The process would have been a lot easier if I hadn't had all these groceries with me. I bent down and was able to retrieve the keys somewhat effortlessly, without having to put any of the paper bags down. Luckily for me, boxing and martial arts gave me some balancing skills. Finding the right key, I jammed it into the lock, but then again, clumsy me, the key scraped in the inner edgings of the doorknob.

"Cody, you're an idiot. What's wrong with you?" Needless to say, I was frustrated. This wasn't particularly a good time for all this shit to be happening. I once again jammed my key into the locking mechanism. It slipped through smoothly and with a swift turn, I unlocked it.

The door almost broke off its hinges as I stormed in. The cabin remained the same as I had left it – somewhat messy, because I've been too busy to clean up. I sped to the kitchen, dropping my groceries onto the kitchen table. Stray oranges and cans rolled out, but I didn't care. I took off my jogging shirt, revealing the white tank top I was wearing underneath. Luckily I decided to wear my jogging suit today, as it kept me dry for the most part. I quickly sped to one of the kitchen drawers and began searching frantically. I knew it was hiding somewhere inside one of them.

"There you are," pulling out a black, leather strap. "I didn't think I'd be using you so soon," petting it as if it was a cat. I sat down and unbuttoned the leg sleeve to my right leg and speedily holstered on my leather strap, supporting my trusty hunting knife securely in place – a perfect reach incase I need it. I buttoned my leg sleeve once more and walked behind the partition next to my front door.

I shuttered a bit, as my nearly bare back leaned against the cold, cream-colored wall. Their color tone certainly appeared a lot cheerier than outside. My heart was pounding, my nerves on edge, my chest heaving. I could hear the footsteps outside, splashing on the rain puddles. He was still on my trail – the stranger who had been stalking me all day.

I first saw him reading a newspaper in a somewhat expensive-looking car at a forest preserve parking lot. At the time, I didn't pay much attention to it. I just continued on my morning jog to town. I started becoming suspicious as I was leaving Chuck's house, a young kid who I'd been giving some self-defense lessons, because of bullies at his school. As I was leaving his house, I saw the guy once again in the same car, waiting not too far from the house.

I had to run several errands today, and at the conclusion of each one, he was there, waiting for me . . . watching me. I was beginning to get worried; he was obviously interested in what I was doing for some reason. The fact that I'm wanted in Metro City for a crime that I didn't commit, did not ease my suspicion, nor the fact that guy looked like someone from the FBI. I started losing my cool when he followed me into the general store. I avoided him as best I could and decided to split for home after that.

"He couldn't be from the FBI," I thought. "I'm in the middle of nowhere. Then again, strangers really don't visit Pickle Crow, especially the kind that wear suits and drive expensive Rolls-Royce's." I awoke from my train of thought; the footsteps were only a few feet away from my doorstep now. Whatever this guy wants, it can't be good, especially if he's here for me. There's no way in hell I'm going down without a fight and my position from behind the partitioned wall gave me a clear view.

I grew tense as the doorknob turned slowly. I took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. It's either him or me -- and I don't plan on going back to Metro City Prison anytime soon. The door opened slowly, creaking as the hinges rubbed against each together. The footsteps were clear and resonant; he was wearing shoes with wooden soles.

I finally caught a glimpse of him from my concealed spot. He was black and rather tall, your stereotypical African-American I suppose. He seemed to have a good build, but I couldn't really tell from the large, black trench coat he was wearing, dripping water on my floor.

"Hmm," I thought, "how rude." I needed to teach him a lesson for barging in here unwelcome. This was it, it's now or never.

I moved in for a clean attack to his neck. The force would easily knock him out, so I could tie him up and interrogate. I swung the side of my hand quickly in a downward motion and met with something bony, but it wasn't his neck – it was his forearm. He parried it! To my surprise, he speedily forced his elbow back into my side, making a clean hit. Needless to say, it stung badly. Not wasting any time, I quickly lifted my right leg, avoiding a quick ankle kick, while swiping my fist out to my side to connect with his face. The agent simply caught it with his bare hand.

"Damn, he blocked it again!" I said to myself. The agent spun around, grabbing me in a choke hold. Being in this situation several times before, I gave him a double-elbow swipe to his stomach. In the corner of my eye, I could see him groan a bit, as he let go of his grip around my neck. In his open state, I delivered an open palm thrust into his upper neck area, forcing him to scramble back a bit.

"A prime opportunity," I thought and I moved in for an all-out offensive.

I wasn't about to go easy on him. I wanted to make him feel that he picked the wrong person to follow into Canada. I darted in with several, quick punch combinations: quick jabs and hooks and finishing with an uppercut. He fell ungracefully onto my hardwood floor, but helicopter kicked back up, knocking me down in the process.

My head smacked onto the hardwood floor as I fell. I clutched it in pain, with my eyes tightly and my brain throbbing. I could hear the intruder walking toward me, as his shoes still echoed throughout the house. As soon as I opened my eyes, my opponent leaped into the air, with the intention of landing the wooden soles of his shoes on my face.

"Whoa!" I turned my body to the side and immediately as he landed, grabbed the intruder's knee with my hands. I twisted my body to bring him down on his back – a nice rolling suplex, if I must say so myself. He also hit the back of his head, but I guess not as hard as I had. We both hastily swiped our fists out to our side, attempting to hit the other. Instead, our wrists met together in a lock.

Surprised, we both spun up back onto our feet and reversed into a reverse front kick, but having studied in kickboxing, I was able to deflect his kick with my own. The black menace stumbled back a bit, losing his balance – another open opportunity. I started out with a side kick, my foot connecting cleanly to his chin and then forged my right leg into a one-eighty degree roundhouse.

Unfortunately, my opponent was able to duck under the roundhouse and came in with a front snap kick, nearly splitting my chest in half. I clutched it a bit, but was able to parry a quick forward punch from him. Not thinking, I wasn't able to see a spinning elbow punch coming the other way.

I lost view for a moment, as my head snapped quickly to my right side. As I turned my head over to the agent, a speeding hook was aimed right for my temple. I ducked quickly, which surprised my intruder and delivered a reverse kick to the agent's midsection. The force of my kick bounced him off the floor a bit and I came back the other way with a left hook of my own.

His face went downward with the momentum of my punch. I grabbed the back of his head and shoved it down toward my knee, stuttering him and finishing off with a hook kick to the back of his head.

"Ooof!" As the agent was about to fall, he let a spinning back kick spurt out, catching me in the chest. I flew through the air and landed hard on something wet. I found myself outside, in the center of a big mud puddle. My white tank top was drenched in mud as I got onto all fours, breathing heavily, as my opponent walked outside into the rain.

It seemed that no matter what I did, he just kept coming back. He's probably trained to take a beating, I thought. That or they feed him really well. The few strikes of lightning lit up the sky, covering us in tones of blue. Rain water dripped down from my hair and onto my eyes.

I forced myself up, getting into my stance. I didn't want to use it, but I guess I have no choice. I reached for my hunting knife, strapped to my leg and wield it out, but it appeared that I've been beat to the punch.

"No more games Mr. Travers," stated the agent. He stood their, holding a small hand-pistol at me, ready to take a shot at me anytime now. "I am not here to arrest you, nor am I here to take you back to Metro City."

"Then who the heck are you? What's your name?" I yelled out, the knife still clenched him my fist.

"I am purely a messenger, but if you must know my name, it's Roscio. It appeared that you underestimated who I was," he laughed.

"Whatever," I thought, "Had you not brought out that gun, you would've been dead." The agent, or whoever he really was, stood like a statue. The lightning reflected off the pistol, pointed directly at my chest.

"So then what's the message and who's it from?" I rudely asked, crossing my arms.

"Everything you need to know is in this pouch." The black agent slowly walked over and handed me what appeared to be a black file folder. I looked what I could of it somewhat suspiciously as I saw the agent slowly put his gun away.

"And with that, I bid you adieu." He slowly got into the driver seat of his Rolls-Royce and sped toward the town limits, leaving me outside in the rain with the document at hand.

* * *

I walked out of my bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxer shorts and towel around my neck. I needed a good bath. I stepped over to my chair and hung the wet towel over it. The black file folder that Roscio gave me still lay on my bed – I had yet to open and read its contents.

I grabbed my mug from the nightstand and walked over to the coffee pot on my dresser. I had let the coffee brew while I took a shower. The strong scent woke me up as I poured myself a cup. Taking a sip, I casually walked back to my bed and placed the mug onto the nightstand. Taking a seat on my bed, I grabbed the mysterious, black folder.

I untied the strap and took a look at the contents inside. There was nothing more than a piece of paper and a sealed, No. 10 envelope free of any address or markings. I began to read the letter:

_Greetings Cody, my old buddy, my old friend. My name isn't relevant, but it's my fault that everyone in Metro City is looking for you – my fault that you're nothing but a hero once remembered – my fault that all the people you thought were your friends have turned on you. Don't go away Cody, not just yet. I have something that may interest you. Say, a young girl of twenty-four, with long blond hair and lips red as the rose. If you don't believe me, take a look at the pictures I've enclosed._

I quickly grabbed the white envelope and tore into shreds. There was a small stack of pictures inside and as I looked at each one, I could see the pain and fear struck on the poor girl's face. She was in tears and bruised badly. It made me angry and sick to my stomach; I wanted to break something. Who was behind this? I dropped the pictures on the bed and grabbed the letter to continue reading.

_I have Jessica right here in front of me, tied up, tattered and torn! She misses you Cody. Ha! Aren't those pictures just marvelous? I took them myself. It was beautiful – she worked so well with the camera. It captured everything about her and it's all for you Cody! I've been thinking about you – I had a lot of time to think about you. How much I would pay to have you dead right now. Yet instead of having the crouton, I shall wait to savor the entire Caesar salad! I will get my revenge you bastard, because it's my turn now. Happy Memories!_

"JESSICA!" I found myself screaming. I was in shock, both angered and sad. I couldn't believe what I just read and saw. I pounded my bed as hard as I could, but no matter how hard I hit it, I didn't feel any better. I grabbed a small couch pillow and pulled as hard as I could. The threads began to snap and the pillow exploded not long after, releasing countless feathers everywhere, landing on the pictures of Jessica strewn about the bed. I once again grabbed the letter and stared at the strange insignia, forming the letters M and G.

"MG," I thought, "that could only be – no, it's impossible. It couldn't be . . . the Mad Gears? They've returned, but how? Belger is dead. He fell from a hotel ballroom. Who could have resurrected the Mad Gears?" Questions rung throughout my head, but I couldn't sort anything out. No one in Pickle Crow knows about my past and no one in Metro City would know where I am. How did they find me? The phone started to ring. I wiped the tears out of my eyes and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" I said, trying not to sound like I was balling.

"I take it that you have received my letter Cody . . . good," said a low-pitched voice. "You never expected them to come back and ruin your life again would you?"

My eyes widened and my tone grew angrier.

"Who the hell is this? Damnd? Abigail? Rolento? I swear I'm going to slaughter you, you heartless son of a bitch!" I shouted in anger.

"Call me what you want, but we are back in business my friend. Without Guy and Haggar to help you, the pleasure will be all ours. We hope you can find us! Muwahahahahaha!"

_SILENCE_

The mysterious caller hung up. I leaned on my bed and started to cry, letting it all out. I couldn't tell if I was angry or sad or perhaps I was both. Jessica is alone with those creeps and I can't do anything about it. I just lay on my bed, crying – crying myself to sleep.

The morning was damp from last night's rain, but the forest never smelled as fresh. Cody had opened his window to let the subtle aroma of pine fill his bedroom. He took a deep breath, as it would probably be awhile before he would return, if ever. He packed a few outfits and some basic toiletries in a large duffel bag. Unfortunately, the constant tossing and turning Cody experienced last night didn't help him much. The images Jessica, the images of her beaten to near death on those photos were nearly engraved in his mind. He was unsure about what he was about to pursue, but he needed to do something – he couldn't just sit on something like this.

"I can't believe I'm going back to it all," Cody thought to himself as he stuffed a pair of shorts into his bag. "Back to fighting on the streets, back to playing detective, back to Metro City – a hero once remembered, but now forgotten. How would things have been if all this shit didn't happen?"

As he walked out his bedroom, he placed the large bag on the floor. He looked around his living room, searching for anything he might need. Cody spotted his hunting knife sitting on the mantelpiece above his fireplace. It wouldn't have been useful to take it with him.

"The airport would just confiscate it," he thought to himself. "I'd be better off securing one once I got to Metro City."

The ex-convict walked outside his cabin, locking the front door. He gazed upon it for awhile, as he spent the last few years of his life here away from Metro City, away from the people who wanted to keep him behind bars and away from his past. No one had bothered him here and he enjoyed the quiet life. With his duffel bag hoisted, he set off for Pickle Crow.


	2. Nine of Cups

Chapter 2

"**The Nine of Cups"**

Cody had always wondered what happened to Jessica. He replayed the night over and over again and couldn't come up with leads. He had taken Jessica out to a late-night movie at a theater in Uptown. After the movie, he took her home around one o'clock in the morning and waited until she got into her house before driving, as he always did.

It wasn't until another hour when Jessica's father, Mayor Haggar had called Cody on his cell phone wondering where his daughter was. The next few hours were spent searching for her, despite Cody seeing Jessica unlock the front door to her house, walking in and closing it behind her. The trail had gone cold in a matter of days a couple of days and made headlines on newspapers across Metro City. No one knew what had happened to Jessica. It appeared as if she had vanished.

Cody had cooperated fully with the police department, but with no clues on the whereabouts his girlfriend was, detectives started focusing their efforts on the last person she was with: Cody. Unfortunately, from the time Cody and Jessica had left the movie theatre to time he met up with the mayor a few minutes after receiving his call on his cell, the hero had no alibi to prove otherwise.

The interrogations were long and harsh, but due to his clean record, the services he performed for the city, and a few good words put in by Mayor Haggar, he was nearly home free. Fate, however, had other plans. Near the end of the interrogations, investigators brought in a knife they had found in the industrial area with its blade splotched in blood. Forensic scientists performed a DNA analysis and confirmed it as the blood of Jessica Haggar and made a statement that the blood was not even a week old. With that evidence submitted, and again without any alibis, Cody was arrested on charges of murder.

The trial was worse than the interrogations. Cody's integrity and trustworthiness was put under scrutiny. Even Mayor Haggar was clouded with doubt in lieu of the recent circumstances. Cody's defense lawyers put up a valiant attempt with valid loopholes at the scene of the crime presented by the prosecution, but it was just a valiant attempt. The evidence was too strong against someone without an eyewitness to bail him out. In the end, Cody was convicted of murder with a life sentence.

The boxer broke out of prison only six months into his sentence. He wasn't content on living a life behind bars for something that he knew that he was not responsible for. Somehow, he found his way into Pickle Crow, a small little town in northern Canada. It was a different lifestyle, definitely a lot colder, but a nice change of pace from living in the harsh city. The ex-hero had a grudge on Haggar. He blamed him for the way his life was now.

"How could you just throw me in jail, Haggar?" he thought violently. "I helped you save your own damn city and rescue your own daughter . . . my girlfriend. You threw your future son-in-law in the slammer. How I wish I could . . ."

Cody let it go. He was already upset as it is. He wanted to search for his missing girlfriend badly, but without any clues, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. With last night's ordeal and the letter he received, Metro City was his best shot if he ever wanted to find his love and prove his innocence. The only lead that he had was "MG" – the Mad Gears, or at least what he thought. He fully knew that he might . . . no, he knew he would be locked up again if he shows his face to Haggar. Unfortunately, it looks as if that's the only place he can go to now.

Cody's trail of thought whooshed away as a speeding car flew by him. He noticed that he was walking into the town limits of Pickle Crow. "It's no use thinking about that now," he thought. "I should just stick to what's at hand."

Pickle Crow was a nice place to live, away from all the hustle and bustle of Metro City – not to mention a nice place to hideout. The town isn't very big and pretty much had the necessities needed for everyday life. The water fountain in the middle of the park featured some Greek goddess with water coming out of her urn. Cody never stopped to take a look at what the plaque beneath it read. People were going about their daily business. It's all you pretty much did in this small town – routine. The bus stop was located in the center of town, in front of Ramona's Arts and Crafts Store.

The boxer leaned back against the building and put his duffel bag on the ground next to him. It was somewhat quiet out, but then again, it was always somewhat quiet. He looked toward his left to see an elderly lady sitting outside the store. She was wearing a magenta summer dress and had wavy, peppered hair. She sat behind a small table with a turquoise tablecloth over it. With a snap of her finger, she was shuffling some rather unique looking cards with intricate designs on them. Cody didn't pay much attention to what she was doing, until she called out to him suddenly.

"Young man," she softly said. Cody turned quickly, being the only one at the bus stop. "I sense something is troubling you. Are you alright?" as she shuffled her cards once again.

I'm fine madam, thank you," he replied politely, although he kept his eyes fixed to the mysterious cards she was shuffling.

"Hmm . . . let's see," she said with a pondering look. She flipped over four cards. "Interesting," she said matter-of-factly. "I see a letter of some kind, from someone you haven't seen in years. I'm also seeing photos of young girl . . . blonde, I . . . can't make out her face, and something is not right about it." Cody's eyes widened in shock.

"How do you know about that?" asked Cody.

"The cards send me visions. They . . . tell me things, so to speak. Is the young lady your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Yes! She went missing nearly a year and a half ago," he exclaimed, running over to the table.

"And you are heading on this bus to find her, correct? Well, the Ace of Cups tells me that you are beginning on a long journey, one that will take you around the world. The Star reconfirms this. The outcome is optimistic, but not without pain and hardship. The Queen of Wands, however, worries me. It shows me an aura of doubt around you and there will be times where you blame yourself for certain outcomes. Continued doubt will cause you to think unclearly, which heightens the card of the Devil. You must be aware of the choices you make, as evil will be a shadow away from where you step. You will be tested many times on your journey, but you must remain focused on what you are trying to accomplish."

"But . . ." he started, but to Cody's surprise, the bus stopped swiftly behind him, its breaks squeaking to a stop. He quickly darted to pick up his duffel bag and went over to the tarot reader. "Can you tell me where Jessica is? Please," he begged.

"I'm sorry lad, but that would be tempting with the Fates. This journey will open you up in ways you've never imagined. I wish you much luck young lad." She looked up with smile and Cody seemed to feel a little better. Hesitantly, Cody climbed aboard the bus, as she flipped over another card – the Nine of Cups.

"Wait a minute, young man!" she started, but it was too late. The doors closed behind him, leaving the fortune teller alone on the corner.


	3. Filipino Connection

Chapter 3

**"Filipino Connection"**

Within a couple of hours, Cody had arrived in the city of Thunder Bay. Yet it was at least another hour and a half before his flight to Metro City was scheduled to depart. The boxer hadn't eaten any breakfast, so he decided to have some lunch at a Chinese restaurant near the airport called Panda Fortune.

It was a nice little restaurant with dim lighting and small booths. The navy blue seats and floor contrasted well with the mahogany wood paneling. Cody poured some gyoza sauce over his steamed dumplings and took a bite out of one. Chewing his food, Cody took a glance around the perimeter. Most of the people in the booths that he could see were couples, chatting away and smiling at each other. Cody was the only one who ate alone, but it didn't bother him. He was used to eating by himself for the past year or so, that or eating with fellow inmates.

Eating mostly amongst white people, his eyes caught glimpse of a tan-skinned Asian, appearing to be in his early twenties. He looked skinny, but not frail. His black hair was spiked up and ran down to a fade.

"He definitely has strange taste in women," Cody thought to himself, as the young man was talking to a white girl with medium-length orange hair. The young spiked-haired man felt as if being watched and switched his focus around, his eyes stopping on the ex-hero.

Cody quickly looked down, slicing another dumpling open, as the young Asian continued in his conversation. To Cody's uneasiness, the young man would frequently look back at him and then continue his conversation with the woman who sat across the table.

"I must have made him nervous or something," Cody thought to himself. Soon after he completed this last thought, the woman got up and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the young man alone in his booth.

"The girl doesn't seem his type," Cody judged. "She looked sort of punkish and dumb. The guy, on the other hand, seemed sort of preppie, sporting cargo pants and a navy blue pullover that matched the decor of the restaurant.

"Is everything ok?" a waitress asked. She was Chinese, wearing a black and white suit with long, brown hair. She must have been the manager or something.

"It was great. Can I get the check please?" Cody replied.

"Certainly, one moment," she answered as she walked back to the kitchen. Finishing his last scoop of fried rice, Cody noticed someone had taken residence is the seat across from him. It was the young Asian kid, with his hunter-green backpack around his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if I was staring at you back there," he started, "but I know who you are." Cody grew a little tense upon hearing those words.

"You're Cody Travers," he started, "I can't believe it's you." The ex-convict's mouth dropped open. He prayed that this guy didn't see him on the news or on some wanted poster for his arrest.

"What am I thinking? That's probably the only reason," he thought to himself.

"How do you know my name kid?" Cody stated in a relaxed tone. His outer appearance remained cool and calm, yet his inner self was somewhat alarmed. He sat casually in his booth, appearing not to be intimidated.

"I've heard many stories of you fighting on the streets of downtown Metro City when the Mad Gears were trying to take control of the city. You were amazing!" he said enthusiastically, mimicking some boxing uppercuts.

"You certainly seem to know about me, but just who the hell are you?" Cody questioned with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

"Oh, sorry. The name's Dion. Dion Paracelano," he sat up, putting his bag down in the aisle way.

"Well kid, the keyword there is _was_. I was amazing, but I'm not a hero anymore and if you want to stay out of trouble, it's best that you don't stick around me. You should already know that I'm a . . ."

"I know," Dion started, "you're a wanted criminal, but all that garbage about murdering your own girlfriend is bologna," he stated matter-of-factly, his hand making a gesture.

"And what makes you so sure that I didn't? My defense lawyers couldn't find proof of my innocence, nor could I." the boxer answered, cracking his wrists. He tried seeing into the young man's dark eyes, but couldn't tell much coming from them, other than the fact that he was really excited.

"Because I know," Dion replied. "Look, the point is that I've been searching for you for the past six months. Metro City is in danger again – the Mad Gears have somehow been revived and are slowly, but surely gaining numbers."

"And what do you know about the Mad Gears?" Cody asked suspiciously. "Why are you trying to help me?" he questioned, leaning forward against the table, his eyes squinting into Dion's soul.

"Do . . . do you know the name Myrna Aguilar?" Dion asked. His tone of voice all of sudden became a lot softer, almost somber. It had been awhile, but Cody remembered the name well.

"Yes, I know a Myrna Aguilar, she used to be a neighbor in the apartment complex I used to live in, but that still doesn't tell me . . ."

"Myrna Aguilar is my cousin," Dion interrupted. "You saved her from a couple of street thugs who were trying to rob and rape her." Dion looked down toward the table. He appeared sort of ashamed.

"You're Myrna's cousin?" a confused Cody asked.

"Yeah," Dion said sadly. "I don't know what I would've done if something bad had happened to her. I've always wanted to meet and thank you for what you have done. I promised her and myself that I would try and return the favor when I got the chance, but I never did get that chance until now."

"Well, the feeling is mutual Dion, and I'm glad that I was able to save Myrna, but the truth is that I don't think she'd appreciate me putting your life in danger. And then there's the very simple fact that I really don't trust you," the boxer said with a cold tint in his voice.

Cody could see the hurt look on Dion's face. Maybe he's telling the truth? The racial implication would definitely support Dion being Myrna's cousin, as she was Filipino herself, but the circumstances just seemed too perfect. Something wasn't quite right with this picture. How would he know that he would be eating at this particular restaurant at this exact time?

"Here you go sir." Cody looked up to see the waitress place a black, plastic tray with the check and a few almond and fortune cookies on it. Looking at the check, Cody took out his wallet and put ten dollars on the table.

"It was nice meeting you Dion. I'll tell Myrna 'hi' for you if I see her. See ya around." He lifted his bag and walked out of the restaurant. Cody walked toward the airport, but no more than a few steps outside of the restaurant did he once again hear Dion's voice behind him.

"Wait Cody!" Dion yelled as he stormed out of the restaurant. Cody stopped and turned around to face him. He stood much taller than Dion, making him look like a little kid.

"Please, let me help you. All I have left in my family are Myrna and my grandmother in Japan. My parents died in a car accident, by people connected with the Mad Gears. At first it didn't make sense, but later I found out that both my parents were Interpol agents, investigating a smuggling ring between the United States and Japan. The reasons for me helping you are many. Cody turned his head toward the ground with his eyes closed, wondering what to do.

"I don't know Dion, its . . ."

"If you're worried about my safety, you don't have to be. I've studied in the martial arts for many years. I can fight at your side just like Mayor Haggar and your friend Guy did. Please Cody; I want to be your partner. If I give you a reason to distrust me, you can beat me up and you'll never hear a word from me again, but at least give me a chance.

Cody once again faced the ground with his eyes closed, pondering what to do. It appeared that this Dion character was being sincere, but again, something wasn't right. He appeared, almost desperate to tag along with me.

"Listen Dion, this is what I'll do. If you can fight, then prove it. You don't look like much of a fighter, but in fight, appearances can be deceiving. If you win, you can come with me and help, but if I win, you get off my back and go on your way. Agree?" Cody asked holding out his hand.

"Deal!" Dion shouted, returning the handshake with an awkward smile.

"We need to get a place where there won't be a lot of spectators," Cody stated. "Let's check around the back of the restaurant."

The two began walking across the restaurant parking lot to the back alley. Both were silent, each of them mentally focusing themselves for the battle ahead. Dion wanted to tag along with Cody, but Cody wasn't sure about this new acquaintance. He seemed a little smooth, a little too smooth.

The alleyway was actually pretty clean. Trees lined the concrete road with garages on one side and the restaurant, complete with dumpsters on the others side. Putting down their bags, they both got into their fighting stances, circling each other with concentrated eyes.

"Judging from his stance, I'd say that he probably knows a thing or two about the martial arts. This should be interesting," Cody thought to himself.

"Alright Dion, here's your chance. Try to impress me."

Confident in his skills, Dion lunged out with a crane kick, swiping his right leg over his side and ending near his head, connecting into a spinning back fist. Cody easily ducked underneath the kick and managed to parry the back fist, swiftly countering with a leg sweep.

Dion flipped hard onto his back, but quickly got up and reversed into a hurricane kick. The boxer dodged just in the knick of time and countered with a high ruffian kick. The kick connected with Dion's arm, as he landed back on his feet, slightly unaware of his surroundings.

Cody initiated a couple of quick stomach punches, ending in his signature uppercut. Dion flew, his back hitting hard against the aluminum garage door as he slumped to the ground. The young Filipino clutched his stomach in pain as he struggled to get up.

"Come on; don't tell me you're down after a couple of punches. I was hoping you had more in ya," Cody said disappointedly, but to his surprise, Dion had lifted up into the air with a jumping uppercut, one that was all too familiar. The punch connected squarely on Cody's chest as he took a few steps back.

Dion noticed his back was close to a wooden fence, as he eyes shifted over to Cody, who moved in with a crack kick. Dion was quick to see it coming and jumped back toward the fence, pushing himself off and following through with flying kick. The attack, once again, connected cleanly with Cody's chest. Cody fell to the ground, but quickly got up.

"The hell? Bushin-ryu? Did Guy send this dude over?" Cody thought as he got up. He'd been going light on the kid, but it seemed that he was a very skilled fighter for being that young.

The two fighters stood motionless. Only the wind moved a few strands of hair and loose ruffles of clothing on their bodies. They peered into each others souls, attempting to steal the thoughts of the other. As if a gunshot let loose, they sprinted forward, throwing out punches and kicks while blocking or deterring the opponent's. It was like out of a movie sequence, with appendages only a blur. Cody, however, being the more experienced fighter, gained the upper hand and was able to get a few critical hits on Dion's weak areas, mainly his stomach and ribs, as he was a somewhat skinny fellow.

Dion backed away, not being able to take many more heavy blows. Breathing heavily, he made a last ditch effort to impress Cody. Getting into his stance, he performed his most potent move – a shippu-jinraikyaku. Surprised, Cody managed to dodge or block all of the kicks, except for the final thrust kick, which connected squarely on his face. The six-foot fighter fell back and landed on the ground, but to Dion's dismay, Cody had started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Dion asked accusingly, breathing very heavily.

"Not bad kid," he laughed as he stood up. "It seems you've mixed up some skills of karate and Bushin-ryu. If I didn't know any better, I'd say my ol' pal Guy was your instructor. I only know a few people who can perform some of those moves you're pulling off. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"What do you care?" he replied with an angry tone, squatting down and resting his head below his knees. It was pretty obvious that Dion was exhausted. "I've lost my chance, you bested me."

"Um, I never said that you lost," Cody stated sarcastically. "And if you want to come along, you best start talking," he continued, crossing his arms.

"Huh? Well, my sensei lives near Tokyo. He taught me many of the techniques I use and occasionally let me study out of a strange book," he mentioned from his crouched position.

"Does he have a name?" the boxer asked.

"Actually, I don't know his real name. I've always called him 'sensei' since I started training under him when I was three," he answered, as he stood up.

Cody couldn't tell whether his answer was genuine or not. He had no reason to doubt him and yet no reason to believe him either. Nonetheless, he's definitely a capable fighter and the boxer wouldn't mind having him as a partner. He could prove useful in his search for Jessica.

"I'm a man of my word," Cody started. "There's no doubt that you can hold your own in a fight and a deal's a deal." The boxer walked over to the young martial artist. "You can come help me, but let me say this: If I find out that you're leading me on, you're going to regret ever meeting me," he said with a stern look.

"Thanks Cody, you won't regret it. I promise," Dion replied with a big smile.

"We're gonna see about that. We don't have much time to get to the airport. We're going to have to jet there, think you can make it?" he asked, pulling his bag off the ground.

"Tch! I was the highest ranked runner in my province for both cross country and track and field. I can beat anybody in a race," he said braggingly."

"Then let's go. I don't want to have to wait for another plane," Cody said. The two fighters set off for the airport. There was an access skybridge to the airport from the bus terminal where Cody had gotten off earlier. Weaving and racing through people and cars alike, they were a blur only caught by camera.

Cody had glanced a look over to Dion, who seemed to be content, with the huge smile on his face. The boxer wondered if he had made the right decision to allow him to tag along, but he did give his word and Cody was man true to it. Whatever the case, Cody needed to keep an eye on him.

Upon reaching the end of the skybridge, Cody and Dion found themselves in the main concourse of the airport, bustling with people heading toward their perspective terminals.

Attention customers, flight 421 to Metro City, United States will be departing in five minutes. Repeat. Flight 421 to Metro City, United States will be departing in five minutes. All passengers please report to Terminal C.

"Fuck," Cody exclaimed, "let's go." The duo once again started running through the concourses of the airport, being slowed down by more passengers and checkpoints. "Damn, we're not going to make it," Cody shouted out loud.

"We will, don't worry," Dion supported. "Terminal C is just beyond this checkpoint." as he walked through the metal detector. Grabbing his bag, Dion raced to the terminal. To his relief, there was still a small line of passengers waiting to board.

"Did we miss it?" Cody asked, as he caught up to Dion.

"Nope. We're just in time. It told you we'd make it." Dion walked over to the ticket counter. The young, blonde ticket clerk behind the desk blushed a bit. Dion definitely had the looks to melt a girl.

"Hiya cutie, are there any tickets left?" The young blonde blushed even more.

"You're in luck, there's one seat left," she said meekly. Her blue eyes connected with the dark ones of Dion.

"I'll take it," he exclaimed. The young Filipino brought out his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash from it. "There you go sweet cheeks. That should cover it."

"Yes, here's your ticket, seat fifty-four. Have a nice flight," she said with a smile.

"Nice meeting ya." He saluted her with two fingers and went off to the line to board the plane. "She's pretty cute," Dion admitted to himself, "but not my type."

"Sweet cheeks, huh?" Cody smirked, holding his ticket at hand.

"Hey, I was trying to be polite and charming at the same time. I have seat fifty-four, what do you have?" Dion asked, trying to look what was printed on Cody's ticket. The boxer pulled the ticket away from his grasp.

"Seat fifty-three." Cody replied.

"Hmm, I guess we're passenger buddies as well," the Filipino mused. "Metro City, here we come." Handing their tickets to the clerk at the door, they walked in with their bags.

"Aw hell no," the boxer remarked. The look on his face was priceless upon looking at the majority of the passengers. Aboard the plane were many punks, complete with chains hanging down from head to toe. There were a few tough-looking bikers there too. Cody brushed his fingers through his brown hair. "I hope no one here recognizes me," he said to Dion.

"You worry too much," Dion said flatly. "If you nearly beat out an entire city of thugs, I'm sure you could take on this whole plane by yourself. Come on, let's find our seats." He continued to search for their seats while Cody just looked at the passengers. Memories of fighting through Metro City arose again, the countless hoodlums and punks that he beat to a pulp and the dozens that were killed with well-timed knife stabs.

"Here's our seats Co- hmpphmph!"

"Ssh! No names on this plane. Low-key is the best key," the ex-hero whispered to Dion's ear, removing his hand from his acquaintance's mouth. Dion just gave a smirk, while Cody lifted his duffel bag over his head and placed it in the compartment above.

"Sorry," Dion said sarcastically as he put his bag next to Cody's. They took their seats and sat down, quiet for moment. Cody still looked around as Dion looked outside the window.

"Attention passengers. Please fasten your seat belts and make sure all cellular devices and laptops are turned off. Please place any purses or handbags in one of the compartments above your seat. If you are carrying any loose items, please hold them securely in front of you. Enjoy the ride and thank you for choosing Metro Airlines." Suddenly, the plane jerked and slowly began moving down the runway.

"Ooh, this is my favorite part," Dion exclaimed. "The thrill of ascending upwards, your gut dropping to your feet, the pop of your ears when you finally break the sound barrier."

"You're having too much fun," Cody stated without any expression.

"Tch, whatever! At least I know how to have some, if you get my drift."

"So where are you really from," Cody asked Dion, not paying attention to the stewardess. "Don't tell me you're from Metro City. You don't dress a like a typical youth from there, not to mention the way you speak, the slight Asian accent and your strange approach to charming the ladies."

"Huh? Wha . . . What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, letting out a low yawn. He began to stretch a little, but suddenly clutched his left rib cage with his right hand. "Ow, that punch still hurts," he complained.

"Just answer the question," Cody said in an annoyed manner.

"Geez, Myrna never said anything about you being so grouchy. What side of the bed did you wake up on this morning?"

"Don't even go there," snapped the boxer.

"Fine, I'm from the same town as my sensei, a few hours from Tokyo, Japan." Cody glared at Dion for a moment before going into thought.

"How would he know all about me if he lives all the way in Japan," he thought. "Sure there was the thing about Myrna, but even then, he wouldn't have seen my face before. I've been in a few fights competitions in Tokyo, but it's pretty unlikely he would recognize me. Myrna never told me about Dion . . . ah, this is all so confusing." He turned to Dion to ask him another question, but he seemed to have dozed off. The ex-convict looked at his new partner with confused eyes.

"Who are you really," he thought. He had an idea, but he decided to make sure that Dion was indeed asleep. He looked around his surroundings once again. The number of punks on this plane was somewhat astonishing to him. Is it true? Are the Mad Gears really forming again?

A few minutes passed by and Dion was still sound asleep. Cody stood up and took Dion's bag from the compartment above. Unzipping it slowly, he looked through the contents of the bag. There wasn't much in the bag except for a couple articles of clothing, a navy blue gi and a pair of gym shoes.

"Damn," he said to himself. "There's nothing here." He opened one of the pockets in front of the bag and found several pieces of paper.

Cody pulled out what appeared to be an envelope. It was addressed to Dion and the address verified that he was indeed from Japan. He looked at the return address. It didn't have a name, but the address was very familiar.

"That's strange. This was my apartment address," Cody whispered, as he opened the envelope. He pulled out a letter.

_Dear Dion, _

_I hope you are doing well. I am sorry if I have not replied to your letters and phone calls as of late, but I have been really busy searching for a job. As you know, I have finally received my nursing degree from college. I have had several interviews at hospitals in and around Metro City. It seems that nurses are in high demand; it will be quite difficult choosing which one as an employer._

_It appears that I have entered the profession at just the right moment. Rumors are spreading that the Mad Gears are slowly formulating once again here in Metro City. I am beginning to get worried in fear of what had happened more than a year ago will soon erupt again in the not-so-distant future. For now though, everything remains quiet._

_I must admit, I do feel scared being here by myself. Especially since my neighbor Cody, the one who saved my life a few years ago, was charged for the murder of his girlfriend. I personally don't believe he would do something like that. The last I heard, he escaped from prison some time ago – I hope he is doing alright. I wish you were here in Metro City with me. I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me if you were around._

_Well, tell grandma hello for me. Stay out of trouble and congratulations on winning the Tokyo Martial Arts Competition. I always knew you would excel in your martial arts studies._

_Love,  
Myrna_

"Well, he's not keeping out of trouble, that's for sure," the boxer said to himself as he folded the letter. Before sliding it back into the envelope, he pulled out a photo that was stuck inside. It was a picture of the two cousins. Dion appeared to be crouched on the ground, flexing and making a goofy face while Myrna sat on his right thigh. It was a cute picture.

"Perhaps I'm being too cautious. The Myrna connection checks out, as well as Dion's statement that he's from Japan. He does seem to be a nice guy at heart. Perhaps I should just let it go."

He put everything back into the envelope and returned Dion's pack up to the compartment. Cody, a little more relaxed now, fell asleep himself – on his way to Metro City.


	4. Trustworthy

Chapter 4

**"Trustworthy"**

Scenery flew like the wind – houses and people a blur when passed by. Cody and Dion were sitting in a taxi cab, riding into the city limits of Metro City. No longer was Metro City the crime capital of the Unites States, but not far from it. The duo just stared out their perspective windows, as Cody hadn't been back in the city for awhile now. Other than the crime rate, nothing much has really changed. Cody could remember that day perfectly, fighting through the streets of this very city to save Jessica. Now he's at it again, but not only do the Mad Gears have his girlfriend, they are after him now as well. The young Filipino, somewhat bored, decided to break the silence.

"So what's the plan?" Dion asked, looking at his partner's expression. Cody heard the question, but hesitated to answer him for a couple of reasons.

"I'll tell you when we get to our destination," he replied simply, once again looking out the window. Dion looked at him strangely, squinting his right eye. Cody knew his partner wouldn't understand the reasoning behind it.

"You can drop us off here," the boxer stated to the driver. "We can walk the rest of the way." The rusted cab hobbled a bit as it slowly pulled over to curbside.

"That's ten bucks even," the driver said in a hoarse tone. He had a scraggly and unshaven appearance, with wavy, black hair. It looked like he had been drinking everyday for the past month or so. Cody and Dion split the bill even and paid the driver. They climbed out of their seats with their bags and closed the doors behind them. The taxi driver drove off, the tires skidding across the pavement.

"Why are we getting off here?" asked Dion, looking around. "Are we meeting someone already?"

"Lesson number one on how to survive in Metro City: never mention what you're doing to anyone who you don't know or trust," the boxer replied matter-of-factly. He hoisted his bag and began walking.

"Oh, sorry," Dion said looking downward, appearing somewhat ashamed of himself. He lifted his bag over his shoulder and started walking to catch up with Cody.

It was a sunny, mid-afternoon day. The sky was as clear as could be, as the duo walked through the neighborhood called Eldon, the middle class section of the city. It was actually a nice-looking area, complete with small bungalows and manicured lawns. A few apartment complexes and condominiums were constructed to invite more people into the neighborhood.

The people went around their daily business. Some were mowing their lawns, while others were barbequing in their backyards. A few kids were even playing out in the front yards. It was hard to imagine that an area like this existed within Metro City. Cody glanced over to Dion, whose head was staring toward the sidewalk, somewhat gloomy.

"You're a retard," the youthful Asian thought. "How is Cody supposed to trust you if you keep making boneheaded mistakes like that? You can't afford Cody to…"

"Hey, don't worry about what happened in the taxi," the ex-hero started, bursting Dion's thought bubble as he continued to walk. "You're just a little green when it comes to conducting yourself around the city. I've lived here my entire life and I learned the hard way what you should and shouldn't do here. You'll catch on eventually; just soak all the information in."

"I know," Dion replied quietly. "It's just that…" Dion suddenly stopped. He could feel a searing pain in his lower left abdomen as he instinctively grasped it with his right hand. It lasted a few seconds before finally fading away.

"Hey, are you alright?" asked Cody. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I…I'll be fine, honest," he answered. Dion regained his composure and started walking. "So, where are we headed?"

"Hmm, doesn't this place look familiar to you?" Cody asked. The young Filipino looked around a bit, but it didn't register anything that he remembered. "We're in your cousin's neighborhood . . . my old neighborhood," the boxer answered himself.

Dion's eyes lit up. He was somewhat surprised that he didn't notice where he was, but then he saw the apartment complex that his cousin lived in.

"Why are we going to my cousin's?" Dion asked, scratching his forehead a bit.

"Your cousin Myrna was my neighbor across the hallway from my apartment. I gave an extra set of keys to her incase I had lost mine. She seemed like a very organized individual. I also had an aquarium going and needed someone to take care of my fish when I was taken into custody. I wished I at least had some time to put my stuff in storage warehouse. I had a lot of things I would like to have kept.

"What kind of things?" asked Dion.

"Not much, some small furniture pieces, books on boxing and the martial arts, paintings and scrolls, not to mention my knife collection," he replied.

"Ah, so that's all _your_ stuff in there," Dion said with enlightenment.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"My cousin's guest bedroom was turned into a storage room of sorts. I guess she moved all your stuff into her apartment so it wouldn't be thrown out when you were evicted. I was wondering who it belonged to, 'cause there was a bunch of cool weapons in there, especially that katana," Dion said enthusiastically.

"My stuff's still there? I thought for sure I lost all those things. I really have to thank her for moving my stuff in, as well as all the things she's done for me," remarked Cody.

"Yeah, um, just to let you know, I've sorta, kinda…practiced with your katana a few times when I visited Myrna about six months ago," Dion stated with a guilty look.

"You unsheathed it!" Cody snapped.

"Y…yeah," he answered, starting to tremble a bit.

"Don't you realize what you've just done?" as he stopped in his tracks. The boxer's face was red with anger as his voice whipped against the young Filipino's face.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any…" Dion was obviously scared out of his mind. He couldn't even look at Cody's face. The boxer's demeanor soon relaxed.

"You've done nothing. I'm glad someone used it. You need to learn to take a joke once in a while," he said in a normal, casual tone. His face was totally calm, but he really wanted to laugh with the expression he saw on Dion's face.

"That's not funny," Dion poked, rubbing the back of his neck and looking the other way.

"Ha, you should've seen the look on your face. And you said I didn't know how to have fun," Cody replied. "Besides, I like my knives better and speaking of your cousin, here we are."

They stopped in front a ivory stone complex. Le Grand was inscribed on the keystone above the entrance archway.

"I'm sure your cousin will be surprised to see us," Cody stated, as he opened the front door of the building.

There wasn't much to the foyer, just a couple of potted sanseveria plants in between the two elevators. Cody pushed the up button on the panel. The white arrow of the left elevator turned on, with a soft ding: the elevator was already on the floor. The duo stepped in and proceeded up to the fourth floor.

"So, are you and Myrna close…as in good friends?" Cody asked. His partner let out an exasperated breath, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

"Yeah, we're the only ones from our generation. I'm an only child and so is she. We grew up together in Japan, but my aunt and uncle moved to Metro City about ten years ago. We've managed to keep in touch with each other. She and my grandmother are the only family I have left now. Both my parents were murdered and both her parents…"

"Died in a car accident. Yeah, she told me about that." the boxer said solemnly. He attempted to look into Dion's eyes, but couldn't see much as he was looking down toward the floor. The elevator bell rung again, as the doors opened up to the fourth floor. They both stepped out, walking toward Myrna's apartment.

"Our family doesn't have much luck when it come living a long life. It's amazing that we even exist today, knowing our ancestry," the young Filipino said with pale laughter as he leaned against the wall next to the door of Myrna's apartment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the boxer asked confusingly.

"Most of our ancestors died before they were even thirty. My parents were a little lucky at the age of forty-four and forty-five and Myrna's parents at the age of forty-six and forty-nine. My grandmother's the luckiest of them all – she's seventy," he laughed again. "Maybe Myrna and I will be lucky enough to live till we're fifty." Cody simply gave a strange glance.

"I know it sounds weird that I'm laughing at this, but Myrna and I joke about this curse all the time. It's just that death seems to run our lives and we've decided to turn around and laugh back it."

Cody was amused somewhat, but it was a strange case nonetheless. The boxer knocked on the door, while Dion continued to lean against the wall. They waited about thirty seconds before Cody knocked again.

"Myrna, are you home?" Cody said loudly. Hearing an unlocking noise from behind, Cody turned around to see a rough-looking man with a balding head and a long, red beard. He was smoking a pipe and his discolored t-shirt reeked of pot.

"You're looking for Myrna? She's not here. She took a trip to Chicago, something about a nursing seminar or something like that," the burly man stated.

"Hmm, she never mentioned any of that to me," Dion said. "Oh well, I'm her cousin from Japan and I got a key to her apartment. Thanks anyways."

"Oh, okay, well here's her mail." He bent down to the floor to grab a stack of envelopes. It was amazing the he was able to bend down with that humongous beer belly.

"Thanks," said Dion as the large man closed his door. Dion grabbed a hold of the apartment keys from his back pack and unlocked the apartment door. It was silent; the only audible things being the pendulum of the clock and the motor of the aquarium pump.

The apartment was of decent size, not to mention spotless. Any cleaner and there would have been sparkles shining to and fro. The walls were painted off-white, with smoky-gray carpeting. The dining room table, with its spotless glass tabletop, was ready for company. The living room, if you wanted to call it another room, could have used more furnishings. All that was really there was small end table sitting next to the silver sofa and an ottoman – not even a TV.

"My cousin's a neat freak, but then again you knew that," looking at Cody with raised eyebrows. "I don't think she would mind if we stayed here for a couple of days, as long as we don't trash the place." Dion placed the pile of envelopes and magazines on the dining room table, while Cody made his way into the living room. He set his large duffel bag down next to the sofa and took a seat, his arms sprawled on the backsplash of the couch.

"I think you should sleep in Myrna's room," Cody started. "You know, being her cousin and everything. At least she won't flip if she saw me sleeping in her bed." Dion laughed for moment, walking toward the small kitchen.

"Do you want a glass of orange juice?" he asked, pulling a glass from the cabinet above.

"Uh, no thanks. I can't believe my landlord gave my apartment to that guy. I liked that apartment," he stated, crossing his arms.

"That's what you get for leaving town and not telling anybody," Dion replied wryly. The boxer didn't bother replying to his remark.

"Which room did Myrna keep my stuff in?" he asked Dion.

"Should be that door next to the couch," the youth yelled from the kitchen. Cody got up from the sofa and opened the door. Sure enough, his stuff was inside, neatly arranged and organized.

"Wow, your cousin is a neat freak," Cody thought. He made his way into the room. All of his t-shirts, boxer shorts and socks were folded neatly in his cream hamper bins. Shirts, pants and jeans were hung neatly on hangars and all his CDs, electronic equipment and weapons lay neatly on the twin bed. All of his stuff was basically there, with the exception of large furniture, which was property of the landlord anyway.

"There you are," Cody mused, referring to his extensive knife collection. "I'm glad Myrna was able to hold on to you guys." Knives of different shapes and sizes were seated neatly in many wooden boxes fixed with glass tops. He opened one of the boxes and slid his finger against the cold steel of a knife blade. "I'll find you Jessica," he said to himself. "And then I'm gonna make whoever did this to you regret the day he laid eyes on you."

"That's quite an impressive collection of knives you got there," as Dion walked into the room with his glass of orange juice. "But I still think that katana is the best," looking at it from where he stood.

"Anything that katana can do, my knives can do better. Alright, enough of me searching through my stuff, what information do you have on the Mad Gears?" the boxer asked, walking out of the room.

"I don't have much," Dion answered, making his way behind Cody. "All I have are some documents that my parents had when they were doing undercover work on them. They really knew how to cover up their stuff. Heck, I didn't even know they were agents until they were murdered. I'm sure there are more documents in my house in Japan, but I've yet to find the jackpot."

Dion walked to his backpack and opened another side pocket, one that Cody had overlooked when he was searching his bag on the plane, and pulled out another envelope bound together by a rubber band.

"Anything would do right about now," mentioned Cody, as he took the rubber band off the envelope. He pulled out a stack of papers. "Hmm, this is a lot of reading," as he shuffled through the papers filled with single space writing from top to bottom – an endless sea of black ink.

"I read the first four pages, but couldn't make a word out of it. I think undercover agents have their own way of writing or something, a lot of the passages are almost poetic," the Filipino said, taking a seat in one of the dining room chairs, resting his chin on his hand. Cody just shifted through the papers, until he saw one that caught his eye.

"You have got to be kidding me," Cody said in a loud tone.

"What?" as Dion lifted his head.

"There's been a Mad Gear related incident in every continent on the world with the exception of Antarctica! Paris, Johannesburg, Mexico City, Sydney, Cairo, Tokyo, Los Angeles, Manila, São Paulo, London, Moscow…this list goes on and on. Jessica could be in any one of these places." He flipped the page over, revealing a map with all the cities that were listed clearly marked.

"So what's the plan?" asked Dion.

"Hmm, I'm not sure." The boxer looked out the window in the dining area. "The sun is just starting to set. If we're going to find information, this would be the best time. Agh, it's been a year and a half. Who knows if all my contacts are still around?" Cody paced the room a bit, as Dion simply drank the last gulp of orange juice. "But I know one who still is. Where's your cousin's phone."

Dion simply pointed over toward the kitchen. Cody strolled over to the phone and quickly punched in a number to the receiver.

"I don't think Myrna would mind if I used her phone." Dion just gave a shrug of his shoulders, taking the glass to the kitchen sink.

"Metro City Special Crimes Department. How can I help you?" answered a voice from the other side.

"Yes," Cody said in a deep and monotone voice. The young Asian simply made a face at the voice he heard. "Is this Inspector Morgan?"

"Inspector!" Dion yelled aloud. Cody simply put a finger to his lip.

"Yes it is," the voice replied. "How can I help you?"

"I have vital information concerning the whereabouts of the Mad Gears," Cody started, walking around the apartment.

"Go ahead," the other voice responded.

"If you wish me to give you any information, you will have to meet me, in private – no colleagues of yours, no colleagues of mine: just the two of us. Then, and only then, will I give the details." The voice on the other line was somewhat hesitant.

"Alright sir, where do you want to meet?"

"5:00pm sharp, Saint Clair Park, on the bench next to the Albert Wisner statue. Remember, come alone." With that, Cody clicked the off button on the phone. "I have an appointment to go to," the boxer said out loud.

"With a cop? Are you crazy? They'll just take you back in," Dion argued with a large voice.

"Not just any cop, an inspector and an old friend of mine since high school. This person has access to all the top files of the Metro City Police Department."

"I should go with you. What if you get turned in?" Dion pleaded.

"No can do, I already gave my word that I wouldn't bring anybody, and I know this person won't turn me in. Trust me on this one Dion."

"Humph!" the Filipino simply puffed, crossing his arms.

"Look, it's almost four-thirty now. I'll be back around six," Cody stated, taking both his and Dion's documents with him. "I'm not trying to diss you, but this is something that I have to do alone. I'll see you in a bit."

* * *

It was closing in on five o'clock. A young girl with short, blonde hair sat on a bench next to the Albert Wisner statue. She was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a tight, light-blue T-shirt revealing a lot of cleavage. She looked around, trying to figure out who the mysterious caller could be, but without a name or a description, she was looking for a needle in a haystack.

"At least I have you with me," she said to herself, patting her collapsible Billy Club within her pocket. She looked around some more, not recognizing anyone, just a bunch of law-abiding citizens and trees. "I'm gonna be really pissed off if this is some kind of hoax," she complained.

"Don't you have better faith in me than that Inspector Morgan?" The young girl quickly turned around from where she was seated. "Or should I say . . . Lucia?"

"Cody!" she almost screamed, as she jumped on top of him from the bench. She gave him a hug, but then quickly pushed him back.

"What the heck are you doing here? You're wanted in the entire state of Jersey!" she screamed in a whispered tone.

"That's it?" he said, acting surprised. "I thought New York would've wanted a piece of the action too," he mused, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Oh that's real funny. Where have you been? Where's the mayor's daughter?" Lucia snapped back, glaring at him with squinted eyes.

"I've been hiding out in Canada and Jessica is the reason I'm here. Listen, I need your help. The Mad Gears have somehow formed again," Cody started.

"So what else is new?" as Lucia plopped herself on the bench.

"Huh?" questioned Cody, leaning against the base of the statue.

"Over the past eight weeks, there have been minor break-ins, robberies and arson. All of them with the Mad Gears' calling card," Lucia answered.

"So it's true. They really are back in business," the boxer muttered, staring at the cobblestone walkway. Lucia had a hard time buying his story.

"So why are you really here," she demanded.

"I already told you, I'm trying to find Jessica. What more do you want?" replied Cody, still staring at the cobblestone walkway.

"And you're just starting to look now? What makes you think she's in Metro City? There hasn't been a sign of her since you supposedly dropped her off at home one and half years ago! C'mon Cody, that's a pretty lame excuse, especially from you," as she crossed her arms.

"Shut up Lucia!" Cody yelled. "I didn't fucking come halfway across the country for you to give an interrogation! If you think that Jessica didn't cross my mind every single fucking day of my isolated existence, you're damn wrong! There's been times where I just wanted to stroll freely across the world and search every damn nook and cranny, but that would've been pointless. I didn't have any info on where she could be. I couldn't come back to Metro City, not with everyone trying to jail my ass for a crime I didn't commit. The only reason I'm showing my face in this place is because it was the only lead I had. If you don't believe me here, take a look."

The ex-hero threw the black file folder that he received last night to her. The inspector caught the folder and opened it up, pulling out the mysterious letter. She was astounded at what she read and even more appalled with the photos. She turned to look at Cody, whose elbows were resting on his knees, his head sunken low.

"Cody, I'm…I'm sorry…I don't know what to tell you," the investigator said sadly.

"Just tell me that you'll help…please," Cody pleaded in a much softer tone. "Lucia, you're the only one I can trust in this city. We've known each other since high school. You're my only hope now; I can't find her on my own."

"Cody, you know I will, but I can't do much without exposing you," she frowned.

"You have complete access to Metro City's investigation files, don't you?" Cody asked, placing a grasp on her shoulders.

"Yes, but…"

"I need you to do three things," as he took the black file folder back. He took out the documents from Dion's parents. "One, this investigation report is written by a couple of undercover agents in Japan. I guess you investigators have a special way of writing, I know you can read and translate this."

"Geez Cody, this thing's a bible," replied Lucia, flipping the stack of papers.

"Two, this map has locations of all known Mad Gear activities. I need to know which cities are likely to have a Mad Gear stronghold and which of these cities are currently dealing with Mad Gear activity. Lastly, I need you to find information, if any, on a guy named Roscio. He's black, about six feet tall, somewhat muscular guy. He drives a Rolls-Royce."

"Would you like fries and a pop with that too?" Lucia teased.

"Come on, that's light compared to what you do everyday. What about past Mad Gear members? What's the scoop about them? Are they still causing trouble?"

"They're all pretty much gone. The only one that's still here that we know of is Damnd."

"Damnd? What's he still doing here?" an upset Cody spoke.

"He's actually made quite a career for himself. He owns a nightclub called Club 1080. He swears that he doesn't have anymore connections with the Mad Gears, but no one knows for sure. He's been clean as far as we know, but then again, no one knows where he got the money to build his club."

"Club 1080, huh? Where at?" asked the boxer.

"Westside, H Street and Dunham Road. You can't miss it. It opens at 9:00pm and knowing you, you're probably going to head down there and investigate, right?" asked Lucia, giving the boxer "the look."

"Am I that predictable?" replied Cody.

"Yep. Alrighty, Club 1080, nine sharp. See you there."

"Huh? I never said anything about you tagging along," Cody protested, pointing a finger at her.

"Hey, somebody needs to keep you in line. Besides, I've been meaning for a little excitement. Don't be late."

* * *

"Luckily I had this silk shirt with me to go clubbin'. What do you think?" Dion asked Cody, outstretching his arms and pointing his fingers inward. The young Filipino was wearing black pants and a black, silk shirt with silver and white vertical stripes toward the center of his body.

"Not bad, but it doesn't beat my leather jacket," he replied. The boxer returned his focus onto the nightclub head. The name of the club was lit in large pink and orange neon lights. The place was huge and heavily secured as buff security guards dressed in black stood in front of the entrance, carding younger people. "I must admit, Damnd knows how to attract people to his club."

"You're pretty sharp in black Cody," came a familiar voice. The duo turned around to see Lucia, wearing tight leather pants and leather top-piece. Their eyes widened and Dion's mouth was wide open. "Who's your cute friend?" she asked, referring to the youthful Asian standing next to Cody.

"Uh, this is Dion. He's my partner," answered Cody. "Dion, this is Inspector Morgan. You can just call her Lucia.

"Nice to see you, Lucia," Dion replied like a wolf.

"I'm sure the pleasure is all mine. Shall we continue?"

"Yeah," Cody and Dion replied simultaneously. "You never told me Inspector Morgan was a lady," Dion whispered over to Cody.

"You never asked," he simply replied.

"The red light district at its best, gentlemen," Lucia started, as they walked toward the club. "Club 1080 is comprised of five floors. The first four floors are the dance floors: rock, hiphop, trance and house respectively. Damnd's office is the fifth floor. The first three floors will be easy to infiltrate. The fourth floor is going to be tricky. Damnd's private office overlooks the fourth level dance floor from above, so we have to be extra careful to make sure we're not spotted.

"There are only three entrances to the fifth floor, two are on the fourth floor on either side of hall, both guarded with security personnel. Once you've managed to get passed them, you'll need to get into Damnd's private office, located directly in the center of the floor. Getting there isn't going to be a walk in the park. The floor is guarded with security officers and surveillance cameras. If you're caught, you risk causing mass hysteria and every news camera in the city will be here within seconds."

"What about the third entrance?" asked Cody.

"No kidding, all that seems pretty complicated," his partner added.

"The third entrance is a private elevator, which needs a key that only Damnd has. Sorry, but that's not even an option," the inspector replied.

"Okay, so how are we supposed to get to his office without being caught?" asked Dion.

"Elementary, my dear friend. You and I are going to create a small diversion. There are about ten security guards total on the fourth and fifth floors combined. We should be able to buy enough time for Cody to slip through without worrying about the guards. Cody, you'll have to maneuver through the surveillance cameras, but hopefully our distraction will keep them from the screens."

"Hopefully? That's doesn't sound very comforting. And how do you know this place so well?" asked as suspicious Cody.

"Hey, I'm an undercover investigator; I'm supposed to know all this stuff. Besides, I've been a here a few times," she said hesitantly. Cody and Dion just gave each other glances.

Lucia walked over to the security guard, who patted her down.

"Go ahead," replied the security guard. Lucia walked in and took a look around. She found herself in a large and dark dancing room with smoke hovering over the floors. A heavy metal rock band was playing in the distance.

"Just like old times, huh Cody?" she asked, as Cody made his way in.

"Let's just go," he answered. They made their way to the staircases and climbed up to the fourth floor without any difficulty. They were now greeted with a pulsating bass beat as house music blasted into the room. A bar was on the east side of the room, with neon blue lights accenting the corners and crevices. The glass blocks that supported the bar table glowed and reflected the light in many intricate ways. A few teenagers were standing on large crates, spinning a bunch of glow-sticks around in unique patterns. The smoke was at least knee high as the trio made their way in.

"Alright Cody, the entrances to the top floor are straight ahead. Your friend and I will take it from here," Lucia pointed out. The boxer dressed in black started making his way toward the back, while Dion and Lucia went the opposite way. The couple shifted through the crowd of people, making their way near a couple of security guards.

"Here's the plan," the investigator started, her voice fighting over the loud music. "We're a couple. You want to drive back home, but your drunk as hell and I'm not letting you drive, cool?"

"But that would require me drinking, and I'm only twenty. I can't be drunk," complained Dion.

"Just fake it. They're not going to know!" Lucia responded in a squinted face.

"Alright. C'mon let's go!" he yelled out, he grabbed Lucia's hand and attempted to pull her out of the dance floor while pretending to lose balance.

"Huh?" she asked.

"C'mon! Let's go home!" Dion insisted, pulling her toward the exit. He purposely bumped into a guy, who was dancing next to him. The dancer stared coldly back at him. Then it hit Lucia that he was already starting the diversion.

"You can't! You're drunk as hell! We're taking a bus!" she yelled, resisting Dion's pull to leave the dance floor.

"Come on, stop being a little bitch and let's get the hell out of here!" Dion screamed even louder.

"What did you call me?" she snapped. All of a sudden, she slapped Dion in the face.

"Hey, what the heck was that for?" he boasted out loud, rubbing his cheek with his hand. Not too far off, one of the security guards had noticed the bickering couple. Something had to be done.

"Alpha Squad, we have a problem on the house floor," a security guard spoke into his radio.

"Roger that, sending back up to the house floor." All of a sudden, a fight broke out between Dion and Lucia, with the investigator tackling the young Filipino onto the floor.

"Don't you ever call me a bitch!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Security guards began rushing in to break up the fight. A few had scurried down the stairs from the fifth floor to assist them. They attempted to separate the two, but it proved more difficult than what the security guards had anticipated.

"Now's my chance," the boxer thought to himself as he slipped his way to the fifth floor. "Wow, they really know how to act."

The fifth floor was nothing like the bottom four floors. The walls were composed of dark mahogany and the inset lighting created an atmosphere for a five-star hotel. Intricate chair-rail moldings gave a touch of class, separating the walls in half. The boxer very carefully searched for any surveillance cameras, but to his surprise, he didn't see any.

"Lucia, I don't see any cameras anywhere," looking at the ceilings as he snuck his way toward Damnd's office. Cody started to hear footsteps, but it was already too late to hide from his current position. Suddenly a guard appeared from around the corner.

"Hey you! What do you think you're doing here?" he asked in a bold voice. Cody instinctively side kicked the guard square in the neck, knocking him toward the ground and to the boxer's surprise, was out cold.

"That's it? Garbage," he thought to himself. Unfortunately, Cody spoke too soon, as another guard rushed to the scene. "Ah, maybe you'll be a better competitor," the boxer teased as he got into his stance.

The guard stepped in with a wild hook, but Cody easily dodged it and went straight in for a gut punch and followed through with an uppercut. The guard stumbled back a bit, but immediately ran for a tackle, taking Cody down by his stomach. Immediately, the guard punched Cody's face with a right hook. A throbbing pain soon formulated on the boxer's left cheek.

* * *

"Sir we have an intruder trying to sneak into your office," a security guard said into a radio receiver.

"Really?" a deep voice replied, not at all surprised, but almost amused. "On screen." His laptop flickered on as video imagery from a surveillance camera streamed into view. A man, dressed in black, was overturning the tables on one of his security guards. "Well, what do we have here?"

"We're dispatching more security to detain him, sir," continued the officer.

"Negative. Let him come," he responded.

"Sir?"

"He's an old friend."

* * *

"Madam, calm down," as security tried to control Lucia. A large group of people had encircled to see what the commotion was about. In a fit of rage, Lucia kneed one of the security guards and hurled him over her shoulder, in an attempt to smack Dion. The Filipino simply ducked out of the way, as the security guard collided with another guard behind him. Cheers rung out from the entire crowd.

"Wow, she must take acting pretty seriously," Dion thought to himself, "but two can play at this game." Dion made a dumb face and called over to Lucia. "You missed me by a mile! Can't you do better than that?"

"Grrr!" Lucia growled as she picked up another security guard and flung him toward Dion. The young martial artist outstretched his arm into a tiger palm thrust, pushing the guard back toward Lucia. Rolling out the way, she landed next to yet another security who tried to grab her.

"Miss, you can't throw the security guards. I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you outside," he replied loudly.

"Shut up," she answered back and flipped him over to Dion, who simply roundhouse kicked him away. Dion rushed in with a flying side kick, but Lucia quickly ducked, nearly being decapitated. The investigator attempted to side kick the Filipino, but he moved away just in time.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's serious," he thought. Dion moved in with a spear-hand, which Lucia dodged really quickly. She then went into a high, split kick, nearly knocking Dion's head off. "She's not all that bad," he thought again.

* * *

"This is too easy," Cody thought to himself, rubbing his jaw. "Ready or not, here I come." Cody kicked down the door to Damnd's private chamber. Spotlights greeted Cody's face as he walked to the extravagant office. Similarly decorated as the hallway, the office supported four thick colonnades done in a gothic style. The ex-hero stepped onto the oriental carpet in the center of the room.

"Mr. Travers. What a pleasant surprise," came a deep voice from behind the large, ornate desk. A wooden seat, with leather cushioning turned slowly around to reveal the one and only Damnd. He buttoned the cuff to his white suit and dusted off his black, buttoned shirt.

"So tell me, to what do I owe the honor of you showing up to my humble abode and pummeling my security guards senseless?" as he cracked his fist.

"Cut the crap Damnd! Where's Jessica?" the boxer demanded, advancing toward his desk.

"Jessica? The mayor's daughter?" as he gazed into Cody's eyes. "Ha! Why are you asking me?" still sitting in his chair. "If anyone knows it should be you. You were the last one to ever see her alive."

"I know you still work for the Mad Gears. Tell me all you know!" shouted Cody, his muscles all tense.

"The Mad Gears?" Damnd asked sarcastically. "Ha, you still think I work for those fools? As you can see, I run a business now Cody, I don't have time for petty things such as that. Why don't you just go home before you get yourself hurt."

"Not until I get some answers!" he shouted back.

"I tried being nice, but you just don't know when to quit." Damnd turned his seat, seeing the masses below through his single glass wall. Without warning, he whistled loud and clearly.

The door was kicked open again as Cody quickly turned around. He was speechless at what he saw. A few feet in front of him stood a large, white muscleman in blue jeans. His short, spiky blonde hair looked sharp enough to stab a person. Damnd stood up and turned around to face his intruder.

"I want you to meet my bodyguard. His name's Thrasher." The bodyguard simply giggled. "It's been awhile Cody, but I've always wanted to beat you down after the Mad Gears were defeated." Damnd jumped over his desk and jump kicked his way to Cody, his blond dreadlocks moved frantically across his face.

"Ugghh!" Cody flew back and fell to the ground, falling only inches from Damnd's bodyguard. Thrasher quickly picked up the boxer by the neck and set loose a couple of heavy gut punches to Cody's stomach before throwing him over to Damnd. The boxer desperately tried gasping for air, but Damnd simply walked over to him and kicked him away.

"Don't tell me that's all you got. Not even a fight back?" jeered Damnd. The boxer managed to get himself up before the two were able to approach him. He dashed toward Thrasher with a flying kick of his own, sending him back. Immediately, Cody flipped into a crack kick, connecting his foot to his opponent's face. Thrasher fell back, but Cody ducked immediately, allowing the fist of Damnd to cut through the air.

Switching his focus over to Damnd, Cody slammed his fist into club owner's jaw and followed through with a Dead End Irony. All of the attacks cleanly connected as Damnd was sucked into the vacuum of kicks. He flew back, falling near his desk.

Cody, however, never made it back to the ground. Rather, he was caught in mid-air by the burly bodyguard, hurling the ex-hero into one of the colonnade posts. Cody slumped back on the column, trying to support his weight. His body was aching and it wasn't exactly the best of odds. Thrasher crouched down and then began to dash forward at high speeds with a stiffened shoulder.

Cody balanced his arms against the column and gave two big boots to Thrasher's head, stopping the incoming collision. Unfortunately, the bodyguard barely even flinched. He grabbed the ex-hero and flung him against a display cabinet. Glass shattered everywhere, as Cody tried to shake the cobwebs off.

A cold sensation rubbed against Cody's hand as he looked down – a throwing knife. It couldn't have come at a better time, with two large bodies closing in on him. In a blurry motion, Cody threw the knife at Damnd's bodyguard. Thrasher's eyes lit up, as he stared at the knife plunged into his chest. He simply fell back, never to get up again.

"Damn!" Damnd yelled, stepping away from Cody, who was getting up.

"Now, where's Jessica?" Cody said with an evil look.

"You'll have to catch me first!" he yelled. He suddenly leapt backwards into the large, glass window, falling down to the dance floor below. Fragments of glass rained everywhere as dancers hollered and shrieked. Dion and Lucia stopped their bickering to notice the commotion from above.

"Ah ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha!" he madly laughed as he pushed his way through the crowds. Cody himself jumped down to the dance floor as well, in hot pursuit of Damnd.

"Alright Cody!" Dion yelled, as he flew through the air, unraveling his body into a butterfly kick, knocking two guards down. "It's party time!"

Cody raced down the stairs, chasing after Damnd. Many choice words and gestures came from the dancers as the boxer shoved through the thick crowd of people. The stairs seemed endless, but he reached the first floor in the knick of time to see the club owner slipping past a corner into an alley. Cody sprinted, following Damnd wherever he went. He definitely wasn't done with him.

"Damn that guy," Damnd said underneath his breath. He knocked over a few trash cans and crates, putting obstacles between him and his pursuer. The club owner quickly skidded against the asphalt pavement to make a sharp right turn, as the alley did an L-shape turn. He threw down a few more garbage cans, as he ran across a large puddle of water. The water stained Damnd's white suit as he ran across.

"Fuck! This is an eight-hundred dollar suit." Damnd peered back, but to his dismay, he still saw Cody hurdling over the garbage bins and closing in.

Wind constantly whipped against Cody's face. It's been a while since he had a good chase. Frankly, he was surprised that Damnd could even run this fast as he saw him make a sharp left turn. The ex-hero followed close behind, finding himself in the Chinese marketplace of Westside, near the area where he fought the corrupted cop Edi.E roughly two years ago.

Damnd was losing patience as he knocked over crates of fruits and vegetables. People cursed in their native language as the two zipped through the marketplace. Damnd didn't care who or what he knocked down. He wanted to escape all this madness.

The club owner quickly made another sharp right running through another dark, wet and secluded alley. He dodged a few more trash cans and large dumpsters before coming to T-intersection. One route lead to a dead end, the other continued on, but with a twelve-foot chain link fence preventing anyone from passing through. Cody was not far behind, dodging the obstacle course as best he could. The former slums boss decided to press his luck and began climbing the fence. A dumpster and few crates were stacked to the side. Damnd jumped on one and then another, using them as stairs to get onto the dumpster. To his surprise, one of the crates gave way to all his weight and he came crashing down to the asphalt pavement.

Cody ran in, picking up the club owner and kneed him in the stomach rapidly, each one getting harder. After about five good kicks, the boxer came in with a left hook and then a right, followed by an uppercut. Damnd just stumbled back a few feet, but he still didn't go down. Cody charged through ramming Damnd into the brick wall of a building. Damnd was nearly out cold. Cody had literally beaten him to a bloody pulp, just as he did years ago. He forced him against the brick wall.

"Do you work for the Mad Gears again?" he demanded, twisting Damnd's arm.

"N . . . no! I told you I . . . I don't work for them anymore. I'm a business manager now!"

"Liar!" Cody shouted as he twisted even harder.

"Ah! It's . . . the truth! All I know is that there's some new guy in town."

"What's his name?" keeping a firm grip.

"Ow! I don't know. No one knows except his most trusted subordinates."

"What about Jessica? Where's she at?" the boxer demanded.

"Why do you keep asking me that? No one's seen her since you went on your little movie trip a year and a half ago," he barely managed to say. He tried wiggling his way free, but Cody simply twisted his arm even harder.

"Do you know a guy named Roscio?" Cody asked.

"Roscio? Why do you want to know about him?"

"Just answer the question!" kneeing him in the stomach, keeping him close at bay.

"Some new guy in town – a real bad-ass. No one knows who he's affiliated with and he doesn't take any crap from what I hear. If I were you, I'd steer clear of him."

"Fuck!" he shouted, letting Damnd go. The club owner simply slumped down. Cody didn't get the information he wanted to hear and he wasn't any closer to finding the whereabouts of his girlfriend. Having no further use of him, the boxer walked away.

"You know Cody, you're still a little punk from the streets. Always have, always will be," Damnd cackled, rubbing his shoulder. The boxer stopped in his tracks and turned around. He bent down and lifted the club owner up by the collar of his shirt, fixing his gaze onto the bloody mess that was Damnd.

"You may be decked out in a stylin' suit and have a hot new club that's the talk of the town, but you're still just common street trash." Upon finishing his last word, the ex-hero hurled him into the dumpster bin and closed the lid.

"Cody!" yelled out a familiar woman's voice. "What happened? Where's Damnd?" Lucia and Dion skidded across the asphalt floor, the echoes of their feet reverberating in the dark and wet alley. They had followed the path of destruction to Cody's location.

"Let's just get the heck outta here," he simply stated. "I'll tell you when we get back," walking back into the Chinese marketplace. Both Lucia and Dion followed in pursuit.

* * *

"That's all you got out of him?" a dumbfounded Lucia asked. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked away. "You should have let me do the interrogating!"

"He wouldn't have told you anything else. When Damnd's being threatened, he lets loose the entire can of worms. That's why he wasn't much of a big shot when the Mad Gears were at full force two years ago," informed Cody. He sat at the head of the table with Lucia at his left, also crossing his arms.

"So then what are we going to do now? We're back to where we started," complained Dion, taking some dishes from the dinner they had back into Myrna's kitchen. Silence fell over all three of them.

"Back before I was arrested, I used to know some people who were good at uncovering information," the boxer mentioned, resting his elbows on the table. "Thing is, it's been awhile, so I don't know what any of them are up to or if they're even still around. Lucia, have you ever heard of M-Flip, Surge, Creeps or Vet?" asked the boxer.

"Old friends of yours?" asked Dion, washing a plate.

"Talk about a blast from the past. I haven't heard those names in awhile," she stated, scratching her forehead. Do you really think those guys would be worth tracking down?" questioned the inspector.

"They may have questionable pasts and activities, but for the right price, they can get intelligence from the deepest societies of Metro City that most undercover agent wouldn't even know about," he responded straightforwardly, leaning back a bit. "So what do you know about them?" Lucia paused for a moment, thinking.

"Hmm, I don't know who Vet is, so I can't help you there," Inspector Morgan started. "I know Surge went six-feet under, got shot down after someone snitched that he stole some disk from one of the smaller rival gangs. M-Flip had left the scene not long after the Mad Gears were supposedly out of business. People say he went to the West Coast, but no one's really seen him since."

"Damn," the boxer shouted, pounding the table.

"Hey hey, watch the table," shouted Dion from the kitchen. "That thing's glass you know. How am I going to explain it to her if that thing breaks?"

"Sorry Dion," the boxer replied, rubbing his wrist.

"Creeps…Creeps is basically serving life in prison, convicted on charges of assault and battery, armed robbery and murder.

"That only leaves Vet," said Cody.

"I don't recognize the name," Lucia responded. "Does he have any other aliases?"

"Not that I know of. His real name is Victor Emanuel Torres. His nickname is basically just his initials."

"I'll can do a check on the systems and give you a call tomorrow morning." The inspector let out a long yawn. She looked at her watch. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but I'm heading out for the night. You two should get some sleep," she suggested, grabbing her purse from one of the chairs.

"Thanks Lucia," replied Cody, still reclined on the dining room chair. With that, Lucia opened the door to the hallway and walked out.


	5. Life in MC: Past and Present

Chapter 5

**"Life In MC: Past and Present"**

"And it's a hot one today in Metro City. Expect temperatures to reach the upper nineties by mid afternoon. City health officials advise everyone to drink plenty of water and stay inside if you can. In other news…"

"Damn Cody, Myrna never mentioned to me that it got this hot," complained the Asian youth as he turned his attention away from a black and white television on display at an old pawn shop. His spiky hair was completely drenched in sweat and dripped onto his grey tank-top. "How can you guys stand it?"

"You get used to it," his partner replied, standing at an intersection waiting for the light to change. A low-rider with blaring rap music drove across the intersection, the music fading away to the sounds of the slums. A younger black couple were arguing kitty-corner from where they were standing while a Latino male in baggy clothing walked his pit-bull across the street.

Dion eyed the strange animal with slight hesitation. It definitely wasn't type of dog that was common in Japan. With a soft buzzing sound, the traffic lights changed and the duo of Cody and Dion crossed the somewhat busy intersection.

"This place sure is rundown," the foreigner murmured, trying not to let the slew of locals hear what he was saying. Despite the piercing heat, many locals were still outside going about their normal routines.

"The slums are the oldest and poorest area of Metro City. This particular area of the slums is called Norwood Park. Metro City had its roots here and spread out. Old pictures from history books used to depict a well-manicured neighborhood, but years of neglect due to the city's past mayors turned it to what it is today."

Cody slid his way past two boys playing soccer on the sidewalk pavement. Their eyes caught a moment's glimpse of him as they continued their game. The boxer didn't pay much attention to them.

"I didn't grow up in this precise area of the slums, but the atmosphere and level of danger were still the same. Drug cartels, gang crews, prostitutes hanging out underneath streetlamps, kids didn't grow up here; they were thrown into the harsh reality that if they even looked at someone the wrong way, you had better run to safety or fight for your life. If you fought, well, you hoped that you were stronger than your opponent." The boxer grew silent and Dion reflected on what he said.

"I guess it would be an understatement to say you had a rough life," his partner simply stated with somewhat of a forlorn expression.

"I didn't have a choice on learning how to box. I _had_ to know if I wanted to survive," he explained, stopping in front of a dark brick apartment complex. Cody turned to Dion with a look of firmness. "Running will only get you so far in this city, and sooner or later, there'll be at time where you won't be able to run fast enough." Dion widened his eyes at the statement while the ex-hero opened a metal door into a somewhat shabby apartment dwelling.

"Is this the place?" asked Dion. Cody simply nodded, as he stepped onto a broken piece of tile.

"When Vet was young, he knew how to swindle information out of people, but he didn't know a jab from a cross. When I first laid eyes on Vet, he was running from a couple punks. I guess he bit more than he could chew and had no choice but to run. He was around ten at the time and his pursuers had to be at least in their early twenties," he started explaining to Dion, ascending up the staircase. Paint chips littered the steps along with dust and spider webs.

"At first I couldn't understand what he was saying. He spoke little English, but when I saw the two guys closing in, I knew what he was getting at. I was nineteen or twenty at the time and back then, I normally wouldn't have gotten involved. My mentality was: I had to fight for my survival at a young age, why shouldn't he? But then, I sort of felt sorry for the kid. There was no way he could've taken on his pursuers even if he did know how to fight. I could see tears starting to form in his eyes and I really don't know what came over me, so I beat up the punks for him."

The boxer stopped briefly on a staircase landing, looking toward the next floor that came into view.

"He was ecstatic and started hugging my leg. My Spanish was limited, it still is, but I heard something along the lines of watching my back and information. I didn't quite understand what he meant at the time and if that wasn't enough, I gave him some boxing lessons once or twice a week after that. I didn't feel right just letting him walk away defenseless. In the months that followed, he'd meet up with me once in awhile, and sometimes told me to watch my back, because someone had a bone to pick with me. Sure enough, I found myself is some sticky situations where if he hadn't warned me, I probably wouldn't be here today."

"So how come he didn't warn you about Jessica's disappearance?" asked Dion, climbing atop the last step.

"Well, when he was around fourteen or so, he got into trouble with the law for stupid shit and spent two years in juvie. The thought crossed my mind about visiting him, but I decided it was best that he get through this on his own. If he could survive, then he'd be alright in Metro City. Sure enough, Vet was released two years after, which was around the same time Jessica went missing, so he probably had no clue about my situation."

The ex-hero pounded his fist a couple of times onto an old, wooden door. A metallic clicking sound came from the opposite side, as the door slowly creaked open.

"Geez esse, you don't have ta…" The heavily accented voice quickly faded away; the expression on the teenager's face was that of complete and utter shock.

"Hey Vet. Long time no see," greeted Cody.

"Whadaya doin' here homes? You a wanted man," he said quietly, poking his head out of the doorway and looking around the hall. His gold chain dangled in front of his white, sleeveless shirt.

"Tell me something I don't know," the boxer grumbled.

"No one followed you, did they?" he asked, still scanning the perimeter. "Jump in here before yous get seen. There be punks here who'd like nothin' better than to get a few bucks turning your ass in."

Cody and Dion made their way into the small apartment; it wasn't much cooler inside than it was out. The hardwood floor squeaked under the weight of their feet as they walked across the living room. With one last good look around the hallway, Vet locked the door behind them.

"Have a seat dawgs," Vet said bringing the electric box fan a little closer to his guests. He plopped onto his brown couch as Cody sat down on a wooden armchair near the couch. Dion opted to stand, looking around at the somewhat dated apartment. "Who's the chink?" the shorthaired teenager questioned, eyeing Cody's partner in his grey tank-top and blue jeans suspiciously.

"WHAT?" the Asian exclaimed. His face turned red and his fists clenched tightly. Cody let out a long breath, closing his eyes.

"Relax," the boxer said in a reassuring manner. His spiky-haired partner backed down, but continued to stare at the clean shaven Hispanic in front of him. "This is Dion. He's my partner from Japan."

"Aight, he's cool then," he said in a mild manner. The young foreigner simply put his hands in his pockets, looking the other way, disgusted.

"Hmph! I ain't no chink," Dion thought to himself angrily.

"So, how've you been Vet? It seems that you've been doing well. I see you've kept up on your boxing," Cody assumed, taking notice of Vet's well-defined arm muscles.

"Yep," the teenager grinned. "Still remember what you taught me, plus I had this coach while I was in jail," he said, throwing a couple of jabs and hooks in the air. "Enough about me though, whadaya you doin' here? Last I heard you busted out of jail. I was like 'oh schnapps! I can't believe it'."

"It's a long story," Cody simply put. "I've been hiding out in Canada for the most part."

"Canada? It's too cold up in that mug, that's why you back here, huh?" he laughed. "No, for realz, why you back here in the hood?"

"This is why." The ex-hero threw a small envelope on his lap like a Frisbee. "I received these two nights ago." Vet caught the envelop in midair and looked at Cody with curious eyes; the same eyes that popped open upon looking at the bruised pictures of Jessica.

"Damn dawg, this is your girl," he burst out loud, looking at each of the photos. "Fuck homes, if only those _pinche wedos_ at the police station would've checked out my story, maybe you and your lady wouldn't be in this mess," putting the pictures back and throwing them onto the small coffee table in front of him. Cody's expression lit up.

"Speak to me Vet. What are you talking about?" the boxer said, leaning forward on his chair. "Could it be possible?" he thought. "Did Vet know what happened to Jessica?" The Mexican boxer just grimaced.

"That knife with ya girl's blood on it…it was planted. You were framed," Vet put simply, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Give me the details," Cody immediately intervened. Vet took a deep breath.

"When I got outta juvie, I wanted to talk to you…about personal shit. Then I found out they holding you fa' murder. I didn't believe that shit, ya know? So I talked to some of my homies and did some searching around. A few weeks later I was standin' face to face with the punk who put that bogus knife at the scene. I had to beat it out of him, but he spilled _la lata de frijoles_," explained Vet as he once again began punching the air. "Well, at least half the _lata_, he didn't have much in the first place."

"So who was he?" questioned the inquisitive boxer.

"It won't do ya any good man. He got capped a couple days after beating it out of him, supposedly by the people who hired his ass. Anyways, so I jet to _la policia_ with the news I had. Damn _gringos_ didn't give me the time of day. Why would they? A teenage Mexican who got out of juvie with stuff on the mayor's daughter? They just told me to get lost."

"Crap. That's just like them, but I'm here now. Who did the guy work for? I need something to go on if I want to find Jessica." Cody stared at the Latino as if he never seen one before. Dion finally sat down on the hardwood floor. He had to admit that the tidbits were getting interesting. Vet simply turned away.

"Sorry dawg, I don't remember. See, when the cops wouldn't listen to me, I tried going to see ya in jail to tell ya in person, but those fuckin' guards told me you weren't allow visits. I tried phone calls and mailing letters and my English ain't so good, but they didn't work. Nothing did. After a few weeks, I…I gave up man. Hey it was juvie, but if I could survive, no doubt you could.

The teenage boxer paused a moment.

"I prayed that something would change 'cause you being in locked up, man that just ain't right. Then I hear you busted out, but I figured you were long gone and that was the end of me trying to talk to ya. Since then, things have changed in my life, know what I'm sayin'? I'm sorry Cody. You saved my life and this punk couldn't save yours." Vet stared out of the few solitary windows he had in his apartment.

"Listen, you're not a punk and I'm not dead yet. You have chance to make it up," the boxer said consolingly, staring at the teenager's face. Vet's eyes suddenly glanced back at Cody's.

"What are you talkin' about homes?" he asked inquisitively, placing his hand underneath his chin.

"I need to you to ask around about Jessica and get some info on the Mad Gears," the boxer explained. Immediately, Vet waived his arms back and forth.

"Whoa, wait a minute, wait a minute. Look dawg, I don't do that shit no more," he protested. A look of confusion appeared the face of Cody.

"What are talking about? You're better at getting info than the city investigators at the police station. Come on Vet, you can't leave me hanging," the ex-hero pleaded.

"Cody man I'm sorry, ok? Things changed since you been away. I wanna help, but I…agh! You know how it is, don't ya?" Vet asked.

"No, I don't," the boxer responded. He could tell he was hiding something. "Why won't you help? What are you trying to hide?" Vet simply stretched his arms atop the couch in a disgruntled manner looking in the opposite direction of Cody and his partner. Disappointed, Dion stood up from his seating spot.

"Let's go Cody," he motioned. "This spic can't help us," he continued saying with a hint of spitefulness in his voice.

"Spic?" Vet jumped from his couch, standing straight up. "Who you callin' a spic?" he yelled.

"The same spic who just called me a chink," Dion retorted advancing a few steps closer to Vet.

"Guys, cool it," Cody said in a raised voice from his chair. He didn't like the way this was going.

"Yo you better check yourself right there or I'm gonna send your Bruce Lee ass back to China," the Mexican teenager barked, stepping over the coffee table. He stood a few inches in front of the Filipino foreigner, staring him down with his fists clamped together. They both stood at the same height with nearly the same physique, although Vet had a little more muscle mass to him.

"Tch! I'll tow your ass back to the pepper fields before you even get a chance!" Dion hollered back only inches from the teenager's face. The two youngsters continued to stare at each other down with their chests high and arms tense like two roosters in ready to be put in a cockfight.

"Break it up you two," Cody shouted, pushing both of them forcefully away each other. "And grow up while you're at it or I'll beat both of your asses."

"Punk, I don't know what it's like livin' in China or Japan or whatever you from, but livin' here in MC ain't the same," Vet continued to argue, pointing his right index finger a few inches from Dion's nose.

"Ya wanna know why I don't do that shit," he continued angrily, "fine! A year ago, a homie put in the word to some hotshot that I can get info on anybody. So he came up to me with a deal. I give him the goods on a list of people he had and he gives me a G. I couldn't say no to an offer like that, and the list of people were easy 'cause they a bunch of whacks who were trying to form new crews now that Mad Gear was out."

Vet walked toward his round dining table, while Cody and Dion remained standing in the living room, listening intently.

"The guy was true to his word. I got my grand and it helped me and my girl through some hard times. Some months later, those guys on the list started disappearing, one by one. I knew what happened, but I didn't think about it much," he said somewhat sadly.

"A girlfriend?" Cody asked with a smile. "I didn't know…"

"You wouldn't know," the teenager butted in, cutting him off. "We met a couple of weeks after getting out of juvie. Anyways, one of my homies caught word that the same guy was trying to cap me, you know, tryin' to clean up all the leaks. I skipped town to lose some heat. Thought things would be cool in a week, but this guy knew how to get around. I got me a call saying they shot up my girl."

Vet put his hands atop the table, leaning against it. He had his head down so no one could see his tear. Dion rubbed the back of his neck, looking the other way, feeling somewhat guilty. Cody just shook his head, listening to Vet's words.

"I raced back to the city," gazing out the window. "I didn't want to believe what I heard, but it was true. Her _padres_ didn't speak to me no more. _Mis papas_ didn't want nothing to do with me since I went to jail. Only people I have left _es mi abuela_ and my boy."

"What?" asked Cody with a look of surprise. The teenager turned around facing Cody.

"I have myself a son now," his eyes turning red. "That's why I don't do that shit no more. I don't want the same thing that happened to my girl happen to him. He's only one, but that won't stop these _putos_ from getting him, ya know? I got a regular job now. It's only grilling burgers and junk, but it puts food on the table and pays the rent. I also been saving up a lot of money at a bank 'cause I wanna get him out of this hellhole. I wanna get us far away from Metro City as possible. I don't want my son to have to 'grow up' here. I don't want him to go through the same shit I did. C'mon Cody, we both know how it is bein' a kid and livin' here."

"I guess I can't argue with that," Cody said glumly.

"You don't know how it hurts me to say I can't help the person who saved me. I owe you my life, but not my boy's. If there was a way to make sure he and my abuela were safe, then I'd go straight to fight for ya side by side, get info, whatever, but…I can't risk it man." Vet pulled a dining chair and sat sideways, resting his forearms on his knees.

"He has a point," added Dion. "Maybe it's better if we leave him out." Cody thought for a moment. He didn't want to leave empty-handed. Suddenly, his expression lit up.

"What if I told you that I could get your son and grandma out of Metro City without spending a penny?" the boxer asked teasingly.

"Right, I'd say what world you dreamin' in holmes," the teenager responded, not even looking at his guest.

"I'm serious," stated the ex-hero as he quickly stepped to where Vet was sitting. He crouched to floor at eye level with Vet, causing the teenage boxer to flinch back. "If I was able to get them out of the city to a place no one would recognize them, would you help me out?"

"For free?" asked Vet.

"Free," the boxer responded.

"Well, yeah dawg, of course. _Pero_ I'd like to see how you'd work that miracle."

"Let's go Dion. We've got work to do," ordered Cody, unlocking the door and walking out. Dion took two steps, but hesitated slightly.

"Uh, hey man. Sorry about calling you a spic. If I knew that you…"

"Nah dawg, we're straight. You didn't even flinch when we stood eye to eye, that tells me you can back up your shit. I started it anyways, so we cool," replied Vet. Without further word, Dion left the apartment in chase of Cody.

As Dion ran down the stairs, his partner was already outside the front door. Cody intended to waste no time. Dion was once again greeted with loud bass music and raw heat.

"Hey, wait up," he yelled loudly, but the boxer continued walking. The young Filipino sprinted down the sidewalk. This time, he made sure no one was in audible range before talking. "So like, really, how are you going to work that miracle?" he asked softly.

"You have to work with the resources you have," responded Cody, as he briskly crossed the intersection.

"What, you know someone giving away a free place to live outside of Metro City?" the young Asian mocked.

"But of course," the boxer said confidently, stepping down into the subway terminal.

"Who?"

"You're looking at him," Cody responded.

"Yeah right, you have a house outside the city?" his partner asked, trailing behind him on the stairs.

"Out of country to be more precise, as in Canada," he remarked.

"Canada? You heard the guy's remark about Canada. He's not going to buy that."

"When you have a kid, your thoughts and opinions change. You do things so that your kid can have a better life, just like Vet explained. I think he would take any opportunity of his son having a better chance at life, even if it was moving to a different country," he pointed out, pulling a quarter from his pocket.

"Who you gonna call?" asked Dion, watching his partner inserting the quarter into the payphone.

"Ghostbusters," he said jokingly.

"Huh?"

"Lucia. C'mon, don't tell me you never heard of that line," punching in the inspector's work number.

"Hey, I'm not old like you," the Asian chuckled.

"You better watch your mouth. This old guy can still kick your ass," he warned, listening to ring tone on the other end of the line.

"Metro City Special Crimes Department," a girl's voice came through."

"Lucia?" the boxer simply asked.

"Hey C.T., what's up?" she began.

"C.T.?" Cody wondered. "Why is she calling me that? Hmm, maybe there are sharks in the water."

"I did a background search for Roscio…and only one person that I could find that matches your description goes…or went by the name of Roscio Wilkins. He was a federal agent for the CIA who supposedly was killed in an undercover sting operation," she stated.

"Good job Lucia, what was he going undercover for?" the boxer asked.

"That information wasn't disclosed. Finding information about federal operations is next to nothing. That's pretty much all your going to find out about him. I'm still working on that list of cities and this massive report by Dion's parents is going to take me weeks to uncover," complained the inspector.

"Just keep at it Lucia. Speaking of information, you're not going to believe how much info Vet had," he replied. He looked around the littered kiosk as sporadic citizens came through and from the turnstiles. Dion kept watch directly behind his partner, keeping eye for anyone suspicious.

"Hmm, did you get any new leads?" she went on to question.

"Yes and no," the ex-hero replied. "That's the reason I'm calling you. I need another favor from you."

"Should I run?" the inspector teased.

"Ha ha," Cody remarked sarcastically, twisting the coiled, metal telephone chord. "Listen, I'm on a payphone. Meet me back at St. Clair Park, 7:00 yeah?"

"Should I bring my legal pad and pencil?" the inspector chuckled.

"Just be at the park, same place like last time. Seven o'clock. See you there."

* * *

"So what miracle do you want me to perform this time?" asked Inspector Morgan. A short outburst of laughter shot out of Dion, slapping his thigh in the process. "From your friend's expression, I'd say a big one," she continued, taking a seat next to the wanted fugitive on a park bench.

Cody glared at his partner with a cold look, causing the youthful Asian to face the other way, rubbing the back of his neck. The boxer then turned to Lucia.

"Just bear with me. Here's what we found out from Vet. When he got out of juvie, he did some searching around, about how and why I was being locked up. Through his own investigating, he found out that I was framed. The knife that was found at the supposed scene of the crime was planted there and he knew who the main guy behind it was"

"What, who?" questioned Lucia in a loud voice, moving to the edge of the bench.

"That's the problem. He doesn't remember anymore. Vet tried going the police with the info, but you know how discriminatory some of those assholes can be at the station," crossing his arms. "They wouldn't give him the time day. He went on searching for ways to notify me, but all of his attempts failed.

"He forgot? I find that hard to believe," a skeptic Lucia told Cody.

"I know Vet and he's always been truthful to me since I met him as a kid," the boxer pointed out. For a moment, no one spoke. A refreshing breeze blew past, giving them a blissful moment from the humid weather.

"Okay, so where does the favor come in?" the inspector inquired, stretching out her right palm. Cody shifted on the bench, facing her.

"I need Vet on our team, but he won't help unless he was sure that his son and grandma are in a safe location outside of Metro City. He's afraid that someone my hunt them down like they did his girlfriend. Don't you guys have some sort of witness protection program, where you can relocate people out of the city for safety reasons?"

"Well, we have a program for inspectors and agents to relocate their immediate family within an eighty mile radius of the city, but…you have to work in the Special Crimes Department in order to participate in it. Witness programs are only used for court cases, so unless this Vet guy is a witness for a trial, it won't work for him," she explained, brushing back her short, blonde hair with her fingers.

Cody hunched over, trying to think. One way or another, he had to get Vet on board. In his mind, he's too valuable an asset on the road to finding Jessica.

"Hire him," the boxer blurted out.

"Hire who, Vet? Eh, I…suppose that's possible. How old is he?" Lucia questioned.

"He's eighteen, going on nineteen. The kid is smart and he'd make the perfect undercover agent. He's been trying to make life better for his kid; he needs the money," informed Cody.

"Eighteen, Cody that's young," she protested. "And I'm sure he doesn't even have a high school diploma since he's been in juvie."

"Young? Tch, the police department in my town has been trying to recruit me since I was fifteen. Still haven't accepted their offer yet," Dion noted, listening to their conversation this whole time.

"C'mon Lucia, how many people who work in that building do you honestly believe have high school diplomas, let alone elementary school diploma," the boxer criticized, pointing in the general direction of the Uptown district. "Heck, at one point in time the city hired anyone who was even brave enough to become one. The bear essentials to becoming an undercover agent are street smarts, fitness and intelligence. Vet has all three of those.

"I'd like to help you, but this isn't going to work. And do you know why this isn't going to work; because Mayor Haggar has to approve all this." The ex-hero just lowered his head upon hearing those words. "Haggar is changing things," Lucia continued, trying to look into Cody's eyes. "He's honesty trying to make this city better, you know that. I can tell you right now he's not going to favor putting an eighteen year old without any experience out on the field, regardless of his or her abilities or willingness to help.

Lucia quickly glanced the other way, her expression flustered.

"Do you realize how much it would hurt his career if something were to happen to your friend?" she asked, quickly turning around to face him.

Cody slowly got up, not looking at either Lucia or Dion who were still seated on the bench. He hesitated, but he knew he had to say it.

"I'm going to see the mayor in person tomorrow," he said, looking straight ahead.

"What!" shouted Dion.

"Cody, are sure that's a wise decision?" Lucia immediately replied after Dion, standing up and placing her hand on the boxer's shoulder.

"We don't have a choice," he argued, turning around. "No solid leads have come up yet from the documents; Damnd doesn't know jack and all other former Mad Gear members are nowhere to be seen. Sooner or later I won't be able to hide and play undercover; it's only going to slow me down." The boxer paused for a moment. "Besides, Haggar has the right to know about the condition of his daughter and eventually, I won't be able to hide from him."

"I thought you were crazy for letting _her_ know you were back in the city," pointing to the inspector, "but now I know you're wacko. Why don't you just walk in there with handcuffs and ask them to take you back," Dion commented.

"I know it sound's like a long shot, but you guys have to trust me on this one. Once Haggar sees the fact that Jessica is still alive, what her current condition is and the fact that Mad Gear is behind this, he's gonna have to cut me some slack.

"Maybe you're right," added Lucia.

"Vet is the only one right now with the know how of putting us on the right track. I think once Haggar realizes that he can get his daughter back home quicker, he'll forego the fact that he's only eighteen," he finished, pacing around the bench. Put me down on the appointment list to meet with Haggar, but use the name Rick Foster. I think a surprise is in order."

"Okay, but I still think you're still putting yourself at high risk," the inspector added.

"I know," the boxer simply replied. He took a long, deep yawn. "Come on Dion, let's go back to your cousin's. I'll see you tomorrow Lucia, and…thanks for all your help, it means a lot."

"Yeah, no problem," she answered back. Cody and Dion simply walked away.

* * *

Dion lay flat on his back on his cousin's bed with his hands behind his head. It was around two in the morning and Cody was fast asleep on the living room couch. Unfortunately, Dion couldn't do the same. He'd been having difficulty sleeping for the past couple of days, preoccupied with many things. The Filipino martial artist stared at the ceiling, illuminated softly by the street light outside.

He flipped on the switch of the small table lamp next to him, feeling a bit restless. Clad in nothing more but a pair of yellow basketball shorts, he slide of the bed and stretched out his back. Dion could hear his spine cracking softly as he stretched. The room was somewhat humid due to the fact that the air conditioning unit was located only in the living and dining areas.

Balancing his weight on his left foot, Dion brought his right knee up to his chest. Slowly, he extended his foreleg up beyond his head and leaned the sole of his right foot against a nearby wall. He could feel his leg muscles stretching as he began hopping toward the wall, allowing his right foot to slide higher and higher toward the ceiling until both his left and right legs were flush against the wall.

The young fighter stood there against the wall for a good minute or so, releasing the stress from his thighs. Despite the unorthodox position, Dion felt quite comfortable. Sliding his right foot off the wall, he walked a few steps toward the middle of the room. He quickly let out a back kick, in perfect form. Pausing for a moment, Dion executed it again, following through with two left jabs, a right elbow and an axe-kick.

The martial artist caught a glimpse of himself in one of the sliding mirror doors. He stared at his reflection for a few seconds, disappointed in what he saw.

"I wasn't there to protect you Myrna," he thought to himself. "Hopefully now I can make a difference." He suddenly initiated faster combos, each blow getting more aggressive then the last. The youth twisted his body and finished with a roundhouse kick, but as his body turned, he noticed Cody watching him from behind in his white T-shirt and blue shorts. Freaking out, the Filipino accidentally kicked a picture frame from his cousin's dresser.

"Cody, I'm sorry," Dion said in a nervous tone. "I…I didn't mean to wake you up," he replied, picking up the picture from the ground.

"It's alright," the groggy boxer replied, his eyes squinting to adjust to light emanating from the table lamp. "I had gone to the bathroom and saw the light on over here. Thought I check out what you were doing."

The boxer made his way to Myrna's bed sitting on the edge. Dion took a seat as well, holding the picture in his hands. He looked at it lovingly, seeing a picture of Myrna in a cream dress and himself in his high school graduation robe.

"May I take a look?" Cody asked. Dion quietly handed him the picture. Cody grinned slightly. "This is a nice photo. So what's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" Dion answered back, not sure of his partner's question.

"Something's bothering you. Those moves you were pulling off weren't you," he said, looking at Dion's face.

"I don't know what you mean," he responded, looking down at the ivory-colored carpet. "I've been studying those moves since I was a kid."

"I mean the manner in which you performed them…with so much anger. I've seen you fight enough to get your general sense of style. I can tell you're hiding something," Cody glared. Dion looked away; he knew he wasn't getting out of this one.

"There are problems that I'm facing…and it's going to affect the way I live my life, but it's a personal thing. I like you and all Cody, but I don't think I'm ready to tell anyone yet. Not even Myrna knows about this, and I tell her everything."

"I guess I'll have to accept that for now. Personal things are personal things, but just to let you know, you can talk to me whenever you feel like. It's not good to keep these emotions wrapped up when you're engaged in a fight." Cody's mouth slow opened wide, letting out another deep yawn. "Alright, it's back to bed for me. See ya in the morning."

Cody walked out of Myrna's bedroom and into the living room. Dion shut off the lamp on the nightstand and snuck back into bed. He stared at the ceiling and blew out a huge breath of air.


	6. Old Friends, New Beginnings

Chapter 6

**"Old Friends, New Beginnings"**

The six-foot fighter strolled down the busy streets of Uptown, Metro City. His long-time friend Lucia gave him an early morning wake up call, stating that she scheduled an appointment to meet Mayor Haggar at eleven o'clock. Unfortunately, the wake up call came roughly an hour before his private session, leaving Cody quite literally running out the door to catch a train. Dion was still sleeping when he left the apartment. It seemed that his partner had trouble sleeping and he decided to let him catch up on a few more hours of sleep.

Cars honked violently on the busy street, with cab drivers shouting and giving the finger at pedestrians crossing the street. Cody flashbacked to days where Haggar, Guy and he were pounding their way through this very street making way to the Renaissance Hotel where Jessica was being held captive. Now, he was solo. The boxer gazed up from his position on the sidewalk, looking up toward the window of the mayor's office. It was the largest window right smack in the middle of City Hall.

As Cody stood in front of the large stone edifice, the words "City Hall" engraved in a bronze plaque near the constant turning the revolving door that let in and out the many citizen and workers. The former hero slowly walked in; his stomach began to go queasy. The boxer would be lying if he said he wasn't just a tad bit nervous. There was no doubt that he attracted the attention of people's stares as soon as he stepped in. His ripped body and large biceps definitely gave him a tough-guy appearance, not to mention his all-black clothing.

The boxer was extremely paranoid that someone would remember him – remember and throw him right back into the slammer. He wasn't here to be thrown back there again, but instead wanted to prove that he didn't kidnap Jessica and to make some sort of amends with Haggar. Cody walked through the marbled halls of the building, looking around and trying to appear calm. He was, after all, a wanted man.

The ex-hero took an elevator to the fourteenth floor: the mayor's office. With a soft ding, the steel doors slid open, allowing a receptionist to catch view of him as he stepped onto the densely carpeted foyer. She glanced at the strange individual that was Cody through her glasses.

"May I help you sir?" she asked. Cody cautiously approached the desk.

"Hi, I'm Rick Forster. I have an appointment with Mayor Haggar for eleven o'clock," he stated politely.

"Let me check the mayor's appointment list. Just one moment," replied the clerk. She picked up the phone and punched in a sequence of numbers. "Hello, Mr. Mayor. Yes, Mr. Forster is here for an eleven o'clock appointment. May I send him in? Alright, thank you." She placed the phone back on the receiver and looked at Cody with a big smile.

"Please follow me, Mr. Forster. I'll take you to the mayor's office," the reception stated. She got up from behind the counter and walked over to her right. A short distance away, Cody could see the door to Haggar's office.

"This was it," Cody thought. "It was now or never."

"Step right in Mr. Forster." The clerk opened the door and allowed him to enter. Cody's face was emotionless as he walked in. He was greeted with a large desk stained in a deep cherry tone along with two leather chairs for the mayor's visitors. Pictures, pens, paperweights and paperwork were scattered everywhere on the desk. Behind it was none other than the mayor himself, Mike Haggar, sitting in his chair. His large back was facing toward the visitor as he continued typing something on his laptop. The door closed behind him, alerting the mayor of someone's presence.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, Mr. Forster," said the mayor, as he finished up typing the last few words. He quickly saved it and turned around, but was not prepared to see the true identity of Mr. Forster.

Cody flicked his nose and glared back at him. His cold, blue eyes connect straight into Haggar's like daggers. How long has it been since he saw him? It definitely was an odd predicament. The boxer wanted so much to rip into Haggar, maybe even kill him, but he wouldn't nor couldn't. He didn't want to risk being put back behind bars again. Haggar stood up, standing much taller than Cody. None of them said a word to each other, their stares did the talking for them.

"What are you doing here Cody?" Haggar finally blurted out. "Or have you forgotten that you're wanted?"

"Cut the crap Haggar. The only reason I'm here is to prove my innocence," he stated, standing in front of his desk.

"Forget it. You broke the law when you busted out of prison, or have you forgotten that as well?" they mayor asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Law? What do you know about law? You were playing vigilante along with me and Guy trying to save your daughter…my girlfriend, from the Mad Gears. Every minute I was behind those bars I wanted to beat your face in through the back of your head!" the boxer shouted.

"Dammit Cody, I had no choice. I couldn't just let you walk. What would people think if I just decided to let you go free after you were convicted guilty by a jury? If you would've stayed in prison, I would've been able to get you out in another three months, but you decided to take it upon yourself to get out," he stated, looking out his large window overlooking the city.

"Three more months and I would've gone insane," Cody defended. "I had to virtually stay up twenty-four-seven because half the people in that joint had a grudge against me, just itching for the chance to take me out." The mayor let out an frustrated breath.

"Have a seat Cody," he replied, turning around and taking a seat himself. "What am I supposed to do with you know?" Haggar asked, resting his forehead on his hand. The boxer threw a black file folder on top of the mayor's desk.

"Decide what you want to do with me after you look at this," the boxer simply stated. The mayor looked at him with thinned eyes. He took the folder and opened it. Cody tried to study Haggar's face as he viewed its contents. It grew angry as he read the letter, until the mayor read the part where it mentioned the pictures. The mayor immediately opened the envelope as if he was a nine year old opening a birthday card, looking at pictures of his own daughter nearly beaten to death. Haggar tried his best holding back his emotions, but a solitary tear came out, falling onto his desk.

"This information proves my innocence and the real reason why I'm here: to get Jessica back and get rid of the Mad Gears once and for all." His arm muscles were all tense, showing off his large biceps. "Are you with me or not?"

"As much as I would enjoy beating the crap out of the Mad Gears and finding my daughter, my job stops me," Haggar said softly with a saddened face. "So many people are depending on me to change this city around; so many lives that can be made better and that's worth more than just one life…even if it is Jessica's." Haggar looked away; he knew the Mad Gears were on a revival streak.

"That doesn't mean you can't," he said to Cody turning around. The ex-hero looked at him oddly.

"This piece of evidence proves your innocence," pointing to the file folder with an open palm, "therefore, clearing you of the murder charge." The mayor paused for a moment. "However, it does not clear your conviction of breaking out of jail." The boxer just slapped his forehead.

"You've got to be kidding me Mike," he said in an annoyed tone.

"Luckily for you, breaking out of prison, surprisingly, is not a serious crime and knowing the law, there are other ways for you to serve this sentence without spending it in prison."

"What are you talking about Haggar?"

"It's quite simple really. You can serve your time for breaking out of prison _in_ prison, or you can do a little "community service," as in serving in the Metro City Special Crimes Unit. You will work on undercover operations concerning Mad Gear with that team. The choice is yours."

"Do I really have to give you an answer?" the boxer grimaced.

"I'm just making sure you understand. Do we have a deal? One year of service in the Special Crimes Division and you're a free man." Haggar extended his right hand for handshake. The boxer slowly reached in and shook it.

"Good," the mayor replied. "And I already have your first assignment," he continued with a hint of a smile on his face.

"I knew it was too good to be true." The boxer turned his head slightly away, with a faint laugh. "What is it?" replied Cody.

"I'm sending you to Japan," the mayor said with a grin.

"The hell…Japan? What the fuck for?" he asked furiously, pounding the mayor's desk with his fist.

"Temper there Cody. Remember, we have a deal." Haggar had a stern look on his face. "The reason why I'm sending you to Japan is to help us back here. The special crimes team recently uncovered an organization that is backing the Mad Gears with weaponry and narcotics.

"So then why don't you let officials in Japan handle it? Why send me over?" he complained, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The situation is complicated for the Japanese officials. I've been in contact with one of their inspectors," folding his fingers over each other. "Trust me, if they could have done anything about it, they would have done so a long, long time ago. Plus, you're the only person with enough guts and skill on the team to actually complete this assignment."

The boxer sighed from his seat.

"So what am I supposed to do?" asked Cody impatiently.

"This mission is dangerous. You can go solo if you choose, but I suggest you find a partner or two to help you out." Haggar walked over to a small bar, pouring himself a small mixture of gin and tonic. "You'll be flown over to Tokyo, where an old friend who works undercover at the Tokyo Police Department will contact you. She's a weapon analysis technician and will provide you with whatever you and your team needs to put this organization out of commission. She also has extensive knowledge about this organization."

The mayor walked back to his desk taking a seat.

"The overall mission is quite simple: take out the organization by destroying their base. That's should cut off a good portion of shipments the Mad Gears are receiving."

"So when do I depart for this lovely mission?" Cody finally asked.

"Tonight," Haggar replied quickly. Cody's eyes just widened.

"Tonight, so quick? What about…"

"Listen, the faster we take out their suppliers, the faster we can take out Mad Gear," Haggar reasoned, taking a sip of his drink. "Plus you'll need to spend time in Tokyo with the inspector on planning out your methods of attack. These detectives are taking a big risk by using someone from the States, so I shouldn't have to say that this is a private operation. If things go wrong, you won't be getting help from anyone."

"Fine," Cody retorted. "As long as it gets to finding Jessica quicker, but…I have a deal to work out with you as well," the boxer added. Haggar looked at him blankly.

"You're really in no position to be making demands, but I'll hear you out anyway. What is it?" taking another sip of his gin and tonic.

"I have a young friend who is good at getting information that your inspectors and agents couldn't get in a lifetime. He knows people in the city and actually had proof that the knife that was put in as evidence during my trial was a fraud. I want him on the Special Crimes Unit with me."

"If that's the case, then why didn't he testify in court," the mayor asked suspiciously.

"Because he was only sixteen then, the cops at the station didn't believe him. They thought he was just some punk making stuff up. He's only eighteen now, but the point is that if you want to find Jessica quickly, this is the guy who's going to make it happen."

"That's fine with me. He's legal age to join the academy," the mayor replied.

"There's a catch," the boxer replied with a smile. Haggar let out a small, but exasperated breath.

"I suppose I had it coming for me," the mayor sighed. "What is it?"

"In order for him to work with us, he wants his family out of Metro City. I know that you have a program for your operatives in regards to moving them out of the city within an eighty mile radius, but he and his family can't afford to move into a new home. I have a cabin in Canada where they can stay for free. I was hiding out there until just recently. All you have to do is provide a method of transportation for his grandmother and son out of country. Then he'll join your undercover ops."

Haggar paused for moment, pondering on the situation.

"It seems like you've been talking to one of my investigators. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was Lucia Morgan…very well, that can be arranged. Now get out of here. I have a lot of reports to fill out now that you're no longer wanted. I'll see you back here tonight, nine o'clock. Try to stay out of trouble," Haggar said wryly.

Cody stood up from his chair and made his way toward the door.

"Oh and Cody…" Haggar called, crossing his arms. "Thank you for trying to help find my daughter." The boxer simply walked out, making his way toward the elevator. The receptionist smiled as he stepped into the elevator, but Cody didn't return one. Needless to say, he wasn't in the best of moods – specifically on the fact that Haggar sent him on a mission to Japan. It would draw his attention away from finding Jessica, but at least it would slow the Mad Gears down a notch or two.

The doors opened once again to the marbled hallway, filled with lawyers, police officers and other people with business here. Again, they eyed him suspiciously.

"Why do they have to stare?" he wondered. "Don't they have enough work to do?" Cody wasn't amused. He wanted to get the hell out of this place, but as in most cases, there's a catch. Nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

"Mr. Forster!" a girl's voice yelled out. She ran through the crowd of people making her way toward the now "freed" convict. "What happened? How did your meeting with the mayor go?" Lucia once again wearing khaki shorts and a tight T-shirt, came into view. Only this time, she wore a purple trench coat over herself. The boxer walked to a quiet corner of the building, gesturing for the inspector to do the same.

"It looks like I'm the newest member of your team," he replied, leaning against the wall with his hands stuck in his pockets. His voice was somewhat quiet to keep other people from eavesdropping.

"What are you talking about?" the investigator asked, giving a confused look.

"The mayor pardoned me on the condition that I join the Special Crimes Unit," he said unenthusiastically, closing his eyes for a moment.

"That's great, then that's it then, you're free…right?" she asked in a half cheerful, half worried tone.

"Eh, not quite…it's rather complicated; all I know is that Haggar already signed me up on a mission to Tokyo. I'm leaving tonight by private jet."

"Tokyo…wait. Is he making you do that undercover mission?" she whispered.

"I guess you've heard of it," the boxer replied in an irritated manner. "Haggar says I can risk an international crisis if I'm caught. What the fuck is he thinking?" He forced himself off the wall. "Well, if you'll pardon my rudeness, I'd better get packing."

"Wait Cody. Don't you want hear the news I got for you?" she asked teasingly, with her hands behind her back.

"What news – and I'm not in the mood for the bad kind either," he said halfheartedly.

"That map with the listing of cities indeed had Mad Gear related activities. However, only three of those cities had recent Mad Gear related incidents: Metro City, London and…Tokyo."

"Tokyo?" the boxer mentioned aloud, pondering a bit.

"Uh huh. You're trip there might be worthwhile after all. You can probably do a little investigating after you're done with your mission," she pointed out, as she now leaned against the stone wall.

"Hmm, very interesting. Thanks Lucia. Keep at it. You're the best." Cody leaned down and gave a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'll give you a call when I'm back from Japan." With that, Cody left for Myrna's apartment to start packing.

* * *

Cody fiddled for the key to Myrna's apartment. Dion had given him the spare just incase he wasn't around for any reason. A grumbling sound came from the boxer's stomach; it was early afternoon and he hadn't had anything to eat.

Cody stepped into the dining area, only to be greeted by a sharp blade being held directly at his neck. Dion was awake, proven by the fact that the young martial artist stood holding the opposite end of the blade, ready to strike.

"Cody!" He immediately pulled the sword back. "I'm sorry, I didn't know who it might be," he said in a surprised manner. It was pretty obvious that the young Filipino had just gotten up. His hair was all disheveled and he was still wearing the yellow shorts from last night. Despite being somewhat skinny, Dion had a good physique with well-toned muscles. However, there was a small but noticeable scar on the left side of his abdomen. Cody wondered how he got it, but thought it would be best not to ask.

"Practicing on my katana, huh?" he questioned. The young Filipino sported a guilty look while the ex-hero put a grin, knowing that Dion took him way too seriously. "It's cool, don't worry about it." Dion took a couple more swipes in the air before sheathing the sword back in its case.

"So, I take it since you're back here in one piece that your meeting with the mayor turned out well?" Dion asked, taking a seat on the sofa. He leaned the sword against the end table so it wouldn't fall.

"Well, I'm pardoned for now…it's a little complicated. All you really need to know is that I, rather, we have a special mission," he mentioned.

"A mission?" Dion asked, as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "From the mayor?"

"Yep, right up your alley too. We're flying to Tokyo…tonight," the ex-hero stated flatly.

"Tokyo! Are you kidding?" Dion shouted excitedly. His partner could tell that Dion was happy with the news, especially from the big, cheesy smile that grew upon his lips.

"Nope," the boxer replied, taking a seat on one of the dining room chairs. "We leave for Tokyo by private jet at nine o'clock sharp," the boxer informed. "We're to infiltrate the headquarters of some Japanese organization."

Dion looked at him with some concern. Something didn't sit right with him upon hearing that last statement.

"Organization…what kind of organization?" he questioned suspiciously with his thinned eyes.

"I don't know the full details. All I know is that they're supplying arms and narcotics to the Mad Gears here in Metro City. Our job is to shut them down," resting his left forearm on the glass table.

"Hmm, I'm not too sure about this organization, but I think this is going to be awesome. I live an hour away from Tokyo, so we can crash at my place. I got all the connections in Tokyo, from the best restaurants to the hottest strip joints in the city. I can take you nearly anywhere for practically nothing," his partner informed enthusiastically.

"Hmm…this might not be a bad trip after all," said Cody. "Nearly anywhere, right?" the boxer asked with squinted eyes.

"Yeah," Dion said confidently. "Wait a minute; you don't really want to go to those strip joints, do you? What would Jessica think?" the young martial artist teased. Cody let out a quick breath through his nose as he threw a Chinese relaxation ball that was resting in a case atop the table. The ball cut through the air like butter, but Dion quickly caught the ball. The Filipino peered at the boxer with a widened expression, shaking his hand due to the slight sting the impact created.

"Eh, sorry," Dion said, rolling the ball within his palm. Soft bell tones floated their way from the sphere.

"The reason I asked is because Tokyo has recently been experiencing criminal activity – courtesy of the Mad Gears. I think we should do a little investigating while we're overseas," he explained.

"That shouldn't be a problem. I know quite a few connections that'll be able to help us out. Plus I have a car, so we won't have to rely on public transportation, like here. It'll be cool to be home. I haven't seen all my friends for awhile now," he said with a melancholy look.

"If we're gonna go anywhere, we need to get packing, but first off…I'm hungry," the boxer said.

* * *

"The two enjoyed a quick lunch at a local diner in the neighborhood. Good food at a reasonably good price. You couldn't ask for a better deal, unless the food was free. Cody and Dion were happy nonetheless.

"I haven't had a good cheeseburger in awhile," Cody happily said, walking out of the diner. He brushed back his brown hair, looking at the cars that passed in front of him.

"Well you better savor it. The burgers in Japan suck," Dion replied, stopping outside. He quickly turned around to head back to the apartment, but suddenly bumped into a strangely animated guy wearing a yellow jacket and a blue visor.

"Hey, watch it kid," the guy shouted. He stared directly into Dion's eyes, ready to beat the crap out of the young martial artist.

"J!" shouted Cody, recognizing him. The outfit totally gave him away. "What are you doing here?"

"Cody!? What the…I'm outta here!" the guy screamed. He shoved Dion toward Cody. The young Filipino fell down, but Cody was able to regain his balance. J had run off, trying to get away as fast as possible.

"Damn, after him!" the ex-hero yelled. He leaped over Dion and started chasing after his suspect, leaving his partner behind. Dion got off the ground and went into chasing after J.

"He has to have information," the boxer thought to himself, as he remembered beating J to pulp in the slums when the Mad Gears had first kidnapped Jessica. He was even wearing the same outfit, how ghetto was that? Pedestrians quickly moved out of the way of the speeding bodies, looking back as if they had never seen anybody run before.

"For heaven's sake watch out!" J collided with a nun, walking slowly on the sidewalk. She fell over, but the punk continued running as if nothing happened. Cody darted around her, not even bothering to help her up. His mind was set on catching a Mad Gear member. Dion was disappointed at their acts and decided to play the part of the Good Samaritan.

"I'm sorry Sister. Please forgive both of them," he pleaded, helping her up. The nun was more in shock than hurt.

"Thank you," the nun said as Dion ran off.

In an effort to escape his pursuers, J quickly cornered into an alley. Unfortunately, it didn't work the way he had planned it, as the ex-hero was still hot on his trail. The alley was a long straightaway, lined with graffiti-marked garages and metal trash cans. The speed humps didn't necessarily make for a smooth run. J was still a good distance ahead of Cody, but the boxer was closing in. Dion was still trailing behind, but was also quickly catching up.

Without warning, a car began pulling out from a garage. J was already ahead enough to narrowly escape being crushed by the teal Chrysler Sebring. He was confident that he would lose them now. In shock, Cody slowed down and rolled over the back hood of the car. However, in doing so, it put more distance between him and J. Dion was further away when the car came out and simply somersaulted over the car and landed cleanly on the other side, catching up with Cody. The driver of the car stepped out, looking at them with a "what-the-fuck?" expression.

"I thought you were ranked number one in your province for track and field?" boasted Cody is spurts of breath, now running alongside his partner.

"I was!" shouted Dion. "Watch this!" Before Cody had realized, Dion bolted with a burst of speed. In a few seconds, the young Filipino was already fifteen feet ahead of Cody.

The boxer slowed down to an eventual stop, with his mouth agape. He literally could not believe how fast he was running down the alley. Dion's arms and legs were nearly a blur. His chest stood up high and he was quickly closing in on J, who was nearing the end of the alley into a T-intersection.

J attempted running faster, putting everything he got into his legs, but he wasn't much of a runner, especially with his smoking habit. Dion was about five feet away from him and at just the right moment, leaped into the air, tackling the suspect from the back.

The impact sent them both straight into the brick wall where the alley had ended into an intersection. J hit the wall first, softening Dion's impact a little. The gangbanger slumped down to the ground, knocked unconscious, and Dion bumped off, falling hard onto the concrete alleyway. A few seconds later, Cody had reached the intersection and helped his partner up.

"Wow," Cody said in amazement. "I've never seen anybody run that fast. Are you okay?" patting his counterpart's back with a smile.

"I'll be fine," he said in a breathy voice, taking in large amounts of air. He rubbed his shoulder, as it stung from the impact of the brick wall.

"You stay here, I'll call Lucia to take him in for questioning." Cody jogged his way toward a payphone at the other end of the alley, while Dion sat down next to the unconscious J, leaning his back against the brick wall.

"Serves you right for trampling nuns, punk," he said out loud.

* * *

"So like, why are we here instead of interrogating that punk I just took out?" asked Dion, as he and Cody walked alongside are large, red brick building. It had an appearance of a cargo hold of some type. The foreigner observed the edifice with a discerning eye.

"I don't like the look of this place," Dion continued, as they continued to walk down a secluded alleyway. Old, deserted garbage cans lined the narrow corridor between to the buildings. The young Dion could see that many a window have been shattered with its shards of glass and other debris lying about the broken asphalt pavement. It was unusually quiet for Metro City.

"Relax, you're actually in a relatively safe part of the city," Cody answered with an emotionless expression.

"Well, that's nice to know," his partner replied, still looking over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover. We're here to talk to Vet," the boxer continued, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"This doesn't look like Norwood Park," recalled Dion. "How do you know Vet's here?" kicking an empty soda can across the alleyway.

"Vet had a routine going every Saturday before being put to jail. If I know him, he'll be in there."

"In where, this crumpled down old building?" pointing to the large brick building next to them with this thumb. "Why in the world would he be in there?"

"You'll see in a moment." Cody opened a large, rusty metal door into the dilapidated-looking cargo bay. A blast of hot, stuffy air immediately greeted them as the boxer stepped in.

"Ah, that would be a good reason," Dion stated, walking in behind Cody. The opaque glass tiles let plenty of natural sunlight in. There were several young men in the building, most wearing shorts and tank-tops. A few were shuffling around in a couple of the rings, while others were punching away at the multiple speed and heavy bags positioned around the perimeter. Dion could see Cody's expression slightly change. He seemed a little less tense then usual.

"Welcome to the Mannsdale Gym," the boxer suddenly spoke. "This here gym is where I got my first boxing lesson," he stated with pride.

"I would've never guessed that had I not actually walked inside," his partner said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The owner tries to keep the gym on the low. Back in the day when things were much worse here in MC, he didn't want to have to deal with the common riff-raffs of Mad Gear. He wanted capable and devoted youths whose lives he could actually turn around for the better. That's why there are no advertisements or any sort of signage outside the building. This place is a safe haven for those people who needed it from the pressures of the city."

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," a raspy voice shot out. The duo turned about to see a middle-aged man with thinning, white hair. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black sweater as he slowly walked to greet the two. "Cody Travers. My, it's been awhile. I heard about your escape a couple of years ago. That whole court ordeal was nonsense. I never believed in any of that garbage that was being put on the news about you."

"It's good to see you again Coach," replied Cody with a handshake and a smile. "Coach, this is Dion Paracelano, a friend of mine from Japan. Dion, this is Jack Temple, but everyone calls him Coach. He's the guy who taught me what I know."

"It's an honor to meet you sir," Dion replied, bowing. "Cody is an extraordinary fighter. You've trained him well."

"Ha-ha, well, Cody was always eager to learn if not a little stubborn." A slight grin appeared on Cody's lips. "Just like his protégé over there," the coach finished, pointing his thumb behind his shoulder. The duo's eyes traveled to the back of a shirtless young man punching away at a heavy bag in the corner of the gym, unaware of their presence.

"He's got a lot of potential. Got some of the quickest hands I've seen. Hardworking, energetic and pretty solid he is. The kid told me this morning that you visited him yesterday. Was excited to see you and that added more determination to be the best," Coach explained.

"To be the best, something I would have said when I was his age," Cody said quietly.

"Aye, his mindset is just like yours. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was you when you were eighteen."

"Geez Coach, what're you trying to say? That I'm old?" the boxer looked him complainingly. Dion lifted his finger, and began to open his mouth. "And that was a rhetorical question," butted in Cody, not even looking at his partner. Dion simply snapped his fingers.

"Ha-ha, well you know what they say: You're only as old as you feel," Coach soothed. "Anyways, the kid looks up to you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind getting some more pointers from you like in the old days, if you know what I mean," he hinted.

"It'll be interesting to see how much he improved since then," said Cody. "Why don't you give my partner here a little tour," patting Dion on the shoulder.

"No problemo," Coach said enthusiastically. He in turn, placed a hand on Dion's shoulder and began showing the foreigner around the large gym.

Vet continued to pound away at the heavy bag unaware on anyone observing him. His speedy combos bounced back a rhythmic pulse that kept a solid groove. Cody kept close watch as he approached ever so calmly. Years of training allowed him to see things nearly in slow motion. He could see each one of Vet's punches impact the bag with great force. The boxer was amazed at how quick he was for his age.

"Careful with that last set there Vet," he suddenly informed out loud. The Mexican teenager stopped in mid set and stood straight up, his muscular back facing Cody. Although the ex-convict couldn't tell, there was a slightly annoyed expression on his face.

"Yo punk, did I ask what ya thought about yo'…" His eyes widened and jaw opened as he saw who was standing behind him. "Cody, oh shit, my bad. I thought you were just some…"

"Forget it," the boxer cut him off. "I would have done the exact same thing when I was your age." A slight smile crept onto Vet's lips.

"So, uh, what were you sayin' about that last set?" the Latino boxer questioned.

"That last combo can leave you open if you're not careful," Cody replied, placing his hands inside the pocket of his black jeans.

"Whadaya mean?" asked Vet, crossing his arms.

"Here, show me that last combination again on the bag," the boxer instructed. Slightly hesitant, Vet got into an offensive stance, trying to remember what he did. The youth shot out two quick jabs with his left while quickly leaning in with a cross with his right. His left arm smoothly glided in for a devastating hook, ending short sequence of punches.

"Normally that's a great combo to throw onto someone who is around the same size as you or smaller," Cody started. "But if you're facing off against a larger opponent, that last hook might not connect."

"I don't get you," Vet responded. The short-haired youth again crossed his arms, his hands and wrists heavily taped.

"One thing you should always be thinking about is the way your opponent is going to react to what you throw at them," Cody explained. "You have some great things going for you. Your punches have a lot of speed and judging from the sounds being created on impact by your fists, I'd say you have pretty solid power behind them too."

Vet simply smiled.

"Crosses are designed to open your opponent upstairs, but an opponent that's larger than you is going to be able to take a lot more punishment than you can. If you throw that cross at a larger opponent, it might not even faze him. He'll simply see and parry your incoming hook and come in with an attack since the entire left side of you midsection is wide open." Cody could see that Vet was thinking hard about the information presented to him.

"So what should I do then," asked Vet. He stood with his feet shoulder's width apart and hands behind his back, like a soldier.

"Well most fighters develop different strategies when fighting larger opponents, but as I mentioned before, one thing that is looking good for you is your speed. You'll probably run circles around much larger opponents, so in your case you're better off trying to wear your opponent out before going into any deep combos. Always be prepared to adapt should an opponent break your set." Cody instructed.

"Damn dawg, I never thought about that, ya know?" Vet admitted.

"Well, now you know," Vet's mentor simply replied. "I have to say, I'm proud at the progress you made, and I really do mean when I say that you got some quick hands. I'd be willing to bet they were faster than mine when I was your age," Cody complemented, as he leaned against the brick wall behind him.

"Man Cody, I don't know what to say," Vet said solemnly. He pulled up a short, metal stool that was set next to the punching bag and sat on it. "I mean, back when you beat those _putos_ and saved my ass I was amazed. You were like my action super hero and I kept thinkin': damn, _deseo ser como él_.' That's why I kept practicing all the stuff ya showed me and I wanted to be like you. That and 'cause I didn't want to bust my ass running every time I got into trouble."

Cody let out a faint laugh.

"I still remembered what youz said when you took me back home that day I met ya. 'Running's only gonna get ya so far. Sooner or later, there be a time where ya can't run no more.' That really made me think, ya know? I found me in some tough shit in jail and this fool was lucky to learn how to fight."

Vet slowly pushed the heavy bag from his seated position.

"Ever since I got out, I wanted to train with ya. I wanted ya to see how much I got betterz at what you taught me. And then to talk about boxing in general, growing up here in the hood and well, how you made it through day by day. Yeah, I know a lot of peeps that I could a talked to, but those aren't ones that are gonna stick with ya through the hard times." Vet turned his head around, looking at the black, heavy bag.

"Then all a sudden you came back, poundin' my front door. I was excited to see ya, but worried too, because I'm not connected no more. I couldn't warn ya if someone's on yer trail."

"Well, you better start beefing up your interrogating skills, as well as your body," Cody added. "Better start getting connected with all of your hook-ups." Vet looked at his mentor with a sigh of grief.

"Cody dawg, I told you yesterday. I can't. _Por favor_, don't make…"

"Listen," the boxer interrupted. "I pulled some strings this morning with Mayor Haggar. I'm a free man, technically speaking. So you don't have to worry about people trying to tip a word about me to the authorities."

"Youz serious? How'd you pull that one?" asked an astonished Vet, sitting at the edge of his seat.

"That's not important. What _is_ important is that I was able to convince the mayor on getting your family out of Metro City…for free," he reported with a smile.

"Yeah right," Vet laughed, standing up. He took a few steps in front of the bag to start another set. "I may not be connected no more, but I wasn't born _ayer_.

"No, for realz dawg," Cody exaggerated, trying to mimic Vet's voice. The Latino boxer's eyes simply glanced back at his mentor with a thinned expression. Cody pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket and handed it to the shirtless boxer.

Skeptical but also curious, Vet yanked the paper out of his hands and unfolded it. Cody could see his eyes darting from one side to the other as he read the print. Slowly, Vet's expression began to change from doubt to shock, taking quick glances at Cody from time to time.

"This…this shit's fo' real," he managed to speak. "How…why…" he began shaking his head slightly.

"Like I said, I managed to put in the good word for you," Cody stated softly. "You need to contact the person on that paper tomorrow. She's the one in charge and is an old high school friend of mine. She'll take care of all your needs. Basically all you have to do is work for the Metro City Special Crimes Unit and your family is out of this place. You told me yesterday that if I could find a way to get your family out of Metro City, you'd fight side by side with me. I kept my end of the bargain; are you going to keep yours?"

Cody could see that Vet was getting very emotional. Cody hadn't seen him teary-eyed since the day he first laid eyes on him. The Latino boxer couldn't believe it. No one had ever done favors like this for him. He couldn't control his actions anymore. All of a sudden, he pinned Cody around his arms, not allowing him to move them.

"_Gracias, gracias, gracias,"_ Vet said quietly, a solitary tear falling from his eye. Cody hesitantly hugged back. "You don't know how much this means. My boy don't have to live here no more. He can have a real life."

Vet let go, wiping his watery eyes.

"You never answered my question," chuckled Cody.

"Dawg, you don't even got to worry about that. As soon as _mi familia_ is out I'll be on the streets doin' my thang," replied Vet enthusiastically, with a slightly thuggish pose. "Oh man, I feelz like I can take anyone on. You don't know good this makes me feel."

"I can help you with that. Why don't you take me on?" Cody challenged. "I want to see what you're made of now that you're in your prime." The boxer began stretching his arms.

"Man, I can't fight you Cody. That's…that's like fighting _mi mamá._ Youz a part of my family now," he admitted. Cody simply smiled.

"So how are my two whippersnappers doing?" that familiar, raspy voice called out again. Both boxers turned to see Coach walking toward them with Dion a few steps behind, completing the tour of the boxing gym.

"Well, if not me, how about him?" Cody suggested, placing a hand on Dion's shoulder.

"Huh?" Dion blurted out, looking at his partner strangely. The Latino boxer glanced at him, from head to toe.

"Yeah, I wanted to see what he woulda' done the other day," Vet responded, cracking his knuckles.

"Wha?" Dion again blurted out with a confused expression.

"Coach, can you get him strapped up and ready for a go?" Cody asked, pushing Dion toward his mentor.

"No problemo," Coach stated, placing an arm over Dion's shoulder while leading him to the locker room.

"What's going on?" Dion demanded, pointing a finger at Cody as he was being escorted away. Both boxers simply laughed.

"C'mon, let's get your gloves on," Cody suggested. The duo walked to an empty squared circle toward the north side of the gym. Rays of sunlight lit the bluish-gray canvas from the large pane window above. Cody picked up a pair of black boxing gloves hanging from the corner of the ring. They were always there for the patrons who wanted to duke it out in the ring. Vet climbed up the ropes and took a seat on the stool next to the blue corner.

"So tell me, how many fights were you involved in back in jail?" Cody asked his pupil. Vet eyed him oddly at the question.

"Not many," he responded, putting his right hand into one of the boxing gloves. "Tried gettin' along with most of the peeps, though there be a few punks who tried to pull a fast one. I barely made it out of a couple but most were cake."

"Did you spar with anyone or meet any other fighters?" Cody continued to inquire, tying the laces of the glove.

"Hmm, there's this guard everybody called Lou. Dun know his real name. Gave boxing classes to the chumps who wanted to learn," sliding his left hand into the glove that Cody was holding for him. "Saw me workin' the speed bag one day and asked who I train with. Didn't say jack to him, but the _wedo_ didn't really care. Helped me out anywayz when he wasn't teaching. I helped him out with some of his classes as payment."

"Then let me ask you this," he started, tightening the last string of the left glove. "Have you ever fought against someone who wasn't a boxer?" Cody grabbed the head gear that hung from the corner pole and slid it down Vet's head. "Like a martial artist?"

"Wha? You mean those skinny people doin' all those flips and shit. Always thought that crap was fake," he replied. Cody tightened the last strap behind the back of Vet's head and slid down the ring, standing next to his corner.

"All I'm going to say is this: Never underestimate an opponent's fighting style." Vet looked at him peculiarly between the ropes as his opponent stepped into the other corner. Dion walked into the middle of the ring sporting red boxing gloves and a protective head piece. Unlike Vet who was wearing a pair of black shorts and gym shoes, Dion was clad in his stonewash jeans and white gym shoes; his upper body bare.

"Cody, you know I can't box," the Filipino complained. "This isn't exactly fair."

"There is a reason why I want both of you to go at one another. Each of you has something the other can learn," explained Cody. The foreigner let out a frustrated breath.

"I suppose," the young Filipino remarked, taking a few steps back. Coach walked a few steps behind Cody to simply observe.

"Alright, you guys ready? Let's keep this clean, nothing below the belt." Vet stood up from his stool and took a few steps into the middle of the ring. He looked at Dion with calculating eyes. Both stood at the same height, although Dion was slightly slimmer and Vet had slightly more muscle mass. They both, however, had very defined, muscular bodies which could easily have been published in any fitness magazine.

"What the hell is that?" Vet thought to himself, looking at Dion's martial arts stance. A metal clang resounded into their ears upon the boxer's last statement. "Ya sure you got the stuffin' for this chink," Vet stated jokingly with a smile."

"You asked for it spic," Dion responded back.

Having little experience in boxing, Dion sent out a quick jab with left. The red glove sped by the corner of Vet's face as he weaved out of its way. He smoothly let loose a hard left cross to Dion's midsection causing him to stumble back a few steps.

"Dion, I didn't say we were having a boxing match. You just can't use your feet," yelled Cody. A light bulb turned on over Dion's head. Vet quickly moved in with quick set of punches. Dion dodged the jabs easily, while sidestepping the uppercut and parrying the incoming hook. The opening provided just enough room for a palm thrust to Vet's chest.

The Latino boxer was merely pushed back a step or two. For Dion, it was quite different fighting with gloves. The foreigner moved into another offensive, although this time with an elbow swipe. Dion smoothly transitioned into a straight punch that Vet cleanly blocked. The Latino boxer moved in with a high uppercut that Dion easily parried with his left forearm, causing beads of sweat to splatter onto the canvas.

The Filipino martial artists moved in with a backhand, but Vet anticipated this move, ducked and unleashed another vicious cross to Dion's stomach, near the slightly noticeable scar.

Dion cringed quite a bit, unable to dodge or parry the incoming flurry of jabs, straights and crosses aimed for various parts of the Filipino's upper body. Vet's big uppercut impacted against Dion's jaw, ending the combo and sending the fighter tumbling to the mat.

"Agh," he moaned, clutching his stomach and grabbing in huge amounts of air.

"Man, I can only imagine if we didn't have gloves. C'mon little man, thought you had more than that?" Vet teased as he sat back down in his corner, taking a quick breather. The Filipino warrior was far from calling it quits, but he realized how dependent he truly was using his feet for offensive maneuvers. Dion glanced at Cody who had quickly jogged to where he was floored.

"There's going to be times where you can't use your legs and acrobatics due to space limitations. You need to work on your developing your punching arsenal," Cody instructed.

"Yeah, I know," replied Dion, picking himself off the canvas.

"Take your shoes off," ordered Cody.

"What? Why?" Dion asked.

"I want you to show Vet what you _can_ do with your feet. Don't let me down," he stated. A big smile when formed across Dion's lips. He spun around, hopping up and down a couple of times in place.

"Ready for another go?" Dion teased.

"Are you sure you want some more, cause I got plenty of it left," Vet said confidently.

"Hey Vet, remember what I said to you. Don't underestimate your opponent's fighting style," Cody warned. On cue, Dion placed one foot behind the other, slipping his foot from his shoe.

"What, youz gonna try and knock me out with the smell of yo' feet?" laughed Vet, as he saw Dion do the same with his other foot.

"You'd be wishing it was that in a few seconds," he simply replied. Again, the metallic sound signified the start of another round.

Confident, Vet stepped in a jab-cross combo, but instead found himself on the receiving end of an elbow thrust to his midsection followed by a roundhouse to his face.

Vet's face whipped to the side, a throbbing pain emanating on the left side of his head that left him stunned despite the protective head gear. He was shocked both by the force of the kick and by speed at which it came. The foreigner stepped with various punches and kicks, also aimed at various parts of Vet's upper body. The Latino teenager was quickly able to shake off the stars, but was barely able to deflect all of the incoming attacks. The boxer tried to get a sense of his opponent's rhythm, but the deceptive angle at which the assaults came rendered him unable to set up any counterstrike.

Dion noticed he was pushing his opponent closer and closer to the ring ropes. In order to really impress his opponent at what he could do, the Filipino foreigner somersaulted over the Latino boxer and landed on the top rope before vaulting into a 540 degree kick that connected cleanly again upon Vet's head. The boxer soon found himself on the mat, again stunned at what just happened. He quickly picked himself up to a knee and pounded the canvas in angst. Vet knew he was out maneuvered.

"Alright, let's stop," Cody ordered. Dion took a few steps away from Vet, who disappointedly stood up all the way. "So Vet, do you still feel the same way about martial artists?"

"Damn, Cody, ya don't have ta rub it in," a dissatisfied Vet murmured.

"I'm not trying to, but I want both of you to realize that everyone has a weak point and you have to learn how to fix it before your opponent can exploit it." Cody sat on a metal chair next to the ring. The two youthful fighters stood there quietly, looking away from each other with slight tension. "Quite simply, Dion you need to work on your punching arsenal and Vet you need to practice on intercepting awkward attacks from various angles," he continued with a stern demeanor.

"How can I work on somethin' like that?" asked Vet.

"I suggest the two of you start getting along real quick," Cody replied. "Dion, you want to build up your punches, right?" he asked his partner.

"Of course," the foreigner responded.

"And Vet, you want practice against fighting unorthodox styles, correct."

"Hell ya, I don't want my ass whooped again like that," he answered.

"Then the two of you need to help each other out," the boxer simply put. "Vet, Dion can teach you how to see past some of the illusions displayed in his fighting style," Cody informed. "He can also teach how to incorporate your feet to round out your offensive arsenal. Dion, Vet can work with you on pumping up your punches. You two are a good compliment for each other, so use it to your advantage."

Both of the young fighters stood there looking at each other, realizing that Cody had a point.

"That's cool with me," answered Dion.

"It be something different, but I always like a challenge," stated Vet.

"Alright Dion, why don't you go back to locker rooms and get yourself ready, we need to jet soon," the boxer instructed.

"Back in a jiffy," replied Dion as he flipped from the ring to the ground. Vet sat back down at the stool in the corner, as Cody stood up from the metal chair, advancing toward the ring.

"I'm surprised you stayed quiet this whole time Coach," stated Cody, as he looked at his mentor from the other side of the ring, making his way toward the two boxers.

"Dion isn't my student and Vet over here is no longer my pupil."

"What are you talking about Coach?" Vet questioned hesitantly, a worried look on his face.

"Cody's your teacher now," he said enthusiastically, stopping next to Cody and putting his hand on his older student's shoulder.

"Huh?" both boxers murmured.

"Vet, you need a mentor with fresh ideas. Someone who's been on the streets and knows them like the back of his hands, someone who…well, is a lot younger than I am and can keep up.

"But," started Cody.

"I'm getting old," Coach interrupted, taking a seat in the metal chair Cody was sitting on not too long ago. "I'm not able to instruct my student like I did 10 years ago. I don't have enough strength in my arms even hold up punching pads for sparring sessions."

"What about the gym, and all the young talent that train here?" asked Cody.

"I never said that I was going to close my gym," he responded. "I'm just too old to train anyone like I used to. I figured that since the two you have helped each other in many ways that this would be for the best."

"No offence Coach, but I always wanted to train under Cody," Vet replied humbly.

"Don't think just because I've known you since you were a little kid that I'm going to go easy on you," Cody warned Vet.

"Wouldn't have it no other way," Vet replied, sliding out of the ring.

"Alright, well I'll leave you two to catch up. This ol' coot has work to do." Coach turned around and slowly walked away.

"I promise dawg. This boy is gonna work it until he drops," the Latino boxer declared, leaning against the ring.

"Always a good attitude to have, listen, the mayor has sent me on mission to Japan. I don't know when I'll be back, but as soon as your son and grandmother are out. I need you to start investigating."

"To Japan, but…"

"It's a long story, and I really don't have a choice. I just have this gut feeling that things are going to be starting up soon and not the good things if you know what I mean."

Vet simply nodded.

"Take care of this place while I'm gone. This was my home away from home and I sure it's yours too," the ex-convict assumed.

"Yeah," Vet answered. "Watch yo' back in Japan. I always heard it ain't no summertime vacation over there," he warned.

"Thanks," Cody replied as he walked away to meet up with Dion.


	7. Sayonara

Chapter 7

**"Sayonara"**

A beautiful morning turned into a foreboding evening. The thin layer of mist developed into a light drizzle. Cody was tired, but the day was far from over. After their meeting with Vet at the Mannsdale Gym, he and Dion had gone back to Myrna's apartment to gather their belongings for the journey ahead of them. Before meeting with the mayor, Cody decided to head to the police station to check up on the interrogation process with J.

Cody was uneasy going straight into the building. He knew that many cops would have tried busting him back into jail for their fifteen minutes of fame. Luckily for the ex-hero, Mayor Haggar had informed the police department that he had been pardoned and was now working for the Metro City Undercover Agency. Still, he received some dirty looks from many an officer as he made his way to Inspector Morgan's cubicle. The boxer didn't care what they thought anymore. He wouldn't be surprised if some of them were secretly working for Mad Gear, ala Edi. E.

A frustrated Lucia walked out of the interrogation room. She rubbed her eyes and plunged into the cushioned seat near her work desk.

"Well? What did you get out of him?" asked Cody, leaning both arms on her desk.

"Absolutely nothing," replied the investigator, looking at him from her chair.

"What!" he exclaimed.

"You mean I busted my ass running for nothing!" interrupted Dion.

"He has to know something Lucia," the boxer complained. "Let me go in there. I'll make him talk," he threatened, his arm muscles tense.

"He's already gone," replied the investigator. The duo both looked at her with widened expressions – that 'how-could-you-have-done-that?' look. "Guys, come on. You chased after him and knocked his lights out by tackling him against a brick wall. As far as we know, J hasn't done anything wrong. By law, we can only hold him for two hours. Once those two hours are up, we're forced to release him unless there's evidence that he's involved in some sort of crime. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do." Lucia got up from her chair and walked toward the restroom.

"Fuck! I can't believe this shit," Cody said angrily. "It looks like the only answers we'll be getting will be in Tokyo. Come on Dion, Haggar's waiting for us by the landing strip." The duo disappointedly walked through the precinct to the emergency landing strip. Haggar was waiting outside in a tan trench coat with a black file folder in his hands – the one that Cody had left in his office this morning.

"Cody, you left this in my office this morning. I've put all the information I could gather about your mission in it. The jet will fly you to the Tokyo International Airport. One of my Japanese associates will meet you at the landing zone and provide you with whatever you need. This is a covert mission. The Japanese government doesn't know anything about this…only the top officials in the police department know about your operations. Fail and we risk causing an international crisis. Good luck, Cody."

"That's it? Good luck?" asked the boxer.

"That's all you need. Don't make me regret my decision for keeping you out of jail," said Haggar. Cody gave him a cold stare and made his way into the jet. Dion began to follow, but stopped to look up at Haggar, who peered down at him with an emotionless face. He clearly stood at least a foot taller than the young Filipino. Dion was more shocked at the sheer size of the mayor than anything.

"Come back in one piece," the mayor said to Cody's partner before turning around and walking inside. Dion hoisted his bag atop his shoulder and climbed into the small jet, closing the door behind him.

Setting their stuff down and taking a seat, the plane made its way down the runway and took off. Metro City was now nothing more than a bunch of lights below, crawling like miniature fireflies. The interior of the jet appeared to be first class. There was even a small bar. Cody never would have thought that Haggar would have rented them a jet like this for them.

The pilot guided the jet through the slight turbulence of the storm and then gave the clear for the duo to freely move about. Cody got up and pulled up a chair next to a round table. He opened up the black file folder that Haggar had given him, reading through the mission briefings.

"Geez, I feel like I'm double-O seven or something," he thought. Dion walked over to the bar to grab a glass of water. Cody decided to skip through the introduction crap and go to the actual meat of the mission. He began reading the statements out loud, so that Dion could hear them as well. At first, it seemed like an ordinary mission, as Dion took in a gulp of water. However, upon hearing Cody's last few words, he quickly spit out the water. The boxer looked at him strangely.

"What? Say that again – the part that you just read." Dion said with a worried tone in his voice.

"The organization you and your party will be infiltrating is called the Society of Deibiddo. Why, you've heard of them?" Cody said to Dion.

"Aw hell no, you did not just tell me that. Please tell me you did not just say that. Why the hell didn't you tell me we we're infiltrating the Society of Deibiddo!" he protested.

"I just found out right now. I would've told you if I knew," he tried explaining.

"I can't believe it!" the young Filipino said, pacing back and forth. "This mission is going to be SUICIDE!" he shouted. Needless to say, he was quite upset.

"Dion, calm down, we aren't going to die. They're just another gang of street punks. Why are you so worried?" the boxer asked. He couldn't comprehend the reason for Dion's sudden change in temperament.

"Street punks?" he laughed in a disenchanted manner. "No…I don't know from who or where Haggar got his sources from, but I assure you that this is NOT just another gang of street punks." The young Filipino walked around the perimeter of the jet like a race track.

"The Society of Deibiddo is the most feared social order in Japan. They make the Triads look like a church assembly. This organization has been in existence for ages, and it's more than a simple organization – they're a cult. They claim themselves to be the perfect society – one in which everyone is equal. The thing is you only have two options when they ask you to enter – join or die.

The young martial artist sat down on the wooden chair across from Cody.

"Most people join, but without the realization that they'll become brainwashed, like the way they do it in boot camp. They train you to become assassins, murderers. All the members of this 'gang' are excellent fighters, but their knowledge of the black arts is what makes them deadly. It's rumored that twenty-four percent of the total death count in Japan is attributed to them."

"Hold on. If they're that much of a threat, why don't the police stop them or something?" Cody asked, finding the story Dion was telling hard to swallow.

"That's just the thing. They've influenced the government since its inception. Feudal lords have paid dues in fear of being assassinated. Throughout the centuries, they have fallen into obscurity, to the point were most citizens refer to them as a made up history tale."

"But…"

"Information on them is sparse, just like the secret societies you hear about all over the world." Dion stood up and began making his way toward a sofa. "Their acts are secretive and the police rarely even put a connection between the two."

"So how do you know so much about these guys? I doubt they taught you this in history class," the boxer joked, sitting with his feet on the table.

"When I was a little kid," Dion started, lying down on the soft-cushioned sofa, "my grandfather and I would play detective. He would tell me the scenario, the clues and he would have a list of suspects to choose from and we'd work them out. He'd take frequent trips to Tokyo and many times came back with new cases. We promised not to tell anybody. It was our secret game – and I never did tell anybody."

"Until…" Cody finished.

"Until my grandfather never came back from Tokyo," he continued with an exaggerated breath. "That's when I learned that he really _was_ a secret agent. I had always thought that he made up those missions, but of course I was too young too put one and one together. How odd is that, a full-blooded Filipino working for the Japanese government. The last case he had been working on was dealing with a cult…"

"And let me guess…it was the Society of Deibiddo," the boxer interrupted.

"Yes. He shared with me a lot of information about them, figuring that I probably wouldn't remember. He told me that they were a very dangerous group. Like I said, I never thought it was for real, so I wasn't really scarred. My grandfather told me that if something happened to him that I should keep our game a secret. I never understood what he meant by that, until the day he didn't return.

Dion paused for a moment, turning to his side, not even looking at his partner.

"That's the real reason why I started learning the martial arts, so that one day I could go and beat the crap out of every one of those guys, but as I learned more about the martial arts, the more I forgot about my primary motive and began appreciating it for its way of life, rather than its way of destruction."

"Wow. I guess I really don't need to read this, huh?" Cody stated, pushing the stack of briefing papers aside. "It's interesting that you mentioned why you started to practice the martial arts. It's not all different from me. Back when I was younger, my dad was an alcoholic. He used to beat my mom, as well as my brother and I when he came home drunk on several occasions."

"You have a brother?" asked Dion. The ex-convict got up and walked over to the second sofa opposite the one Dion laid in. He took a seat and resumed.

"Yeah, he went on to do his own thing when he was old enough; haven't really heard from him since. Anyways, my dad filed for a divorce when I was fourteen and left us a threat: that he'd return one day and kill us. So I started getting into boxing and soon after that, kickboxing, so when that day ever did come, I'd be ready for him. There were times, however, that I was so angry that I wanted to search for him myself and kill him. Over the years, I've managed to release some of that pain and anger into better things."

"Hmm, I guess martial arts has influenced both our lives," the young Filipino pointed out. "Its strange how something designed out of force can bring out peace." There was a moment of silence, but Dion broke it. "Now, you got me all riled up about this mission. This was my grandpa's last case and look where he ended up. The Society is not one to be meddled with."

"It'll be fine. We'll talk about it when we get to Tokyo," assured Cody. Dion turned around, his back facing Cody. "Wake me up when we get there," he said aloud and soon fell fast asleep. It wasn't long before Cody did the same.


End file.
